Dark Addiction
by Rogue Fox
Summary: UPDATED! A mostlikely last installment in Yami Malik's POV. So come have a look through Yami Malik's eyes as he beholds the love of his life, Malik...
1. YamixYugi

Dark Addiction  
  
By: Rogue Fox  
  
A/N: Hey, everyone. Here it is. My super-dumb, super-sappy, rot-your-teeth fluffy fic. I don't know if this is angst or not. Maybe a little. I've never written anything like this before, so be gentle. I've never written a one-shot fluff fic before, and I've never written shonen-ai. For those of you that don't know, I'm warning you; shonen-ai means two guys are seriously into each other. As in, very seriously. Turn back now if you're against that. This is purely Yami x Yugi, with a few tiny hints of Ryou x Yami Bakura. I chose that pairing because it's easiest for me and I'm experimenting with writing shonen-ai. You might soon see a similar pairing in "The Game of Life." Oh, btw, the POV is the same throughout the fic. You'll figure out who. And before you get me about it, I know Yami and Yugi can't both physically stand in the same room. Just pretend for the sake of the fic. So flame me if you want, but be gentle. ::sigh:: Here we go. Review and yell at me.  
  
Key:  
  
/ blah blah/ = Yugi's thoughts to Yami  
  
// blah blah// = Yami's thoughts to Yugi  
  
  
  
*+*+*  
  
Light is drawn to dark. Dark is drawn to light.  
  
Opposites attract. That's the way the world works. If negative electrons weren't drawn to positive protons, the world wouldn't be able to exist. If males didn't attract females, the species wouldn't be able to breed. If matter wasn't drawn to anti-matter, nothing would work. Without the attraction between opposites, reality as we know it couldn't be.  
  
And of course, it's natural for a half to seek out its other half. Doesn't a hydrogen atom seek out the right combo of other hydrogen atoms and oxygen atoms to make a water molecule? Every half looks for completion. It's natural. Sometimes that search can lead that half across the world, or even across time.  
  
It hurts. Being a half, I mean. Always knowing on an instinctive level that you're not whole. You can't ignore it, even though you try. And you unwillingly spend your life searching for your other half that you know you don't really have a chance of finding. You try anyway. It's natural to seek completion. But living without that completion hurts. It's like a constant aching in your chest, every beat of your heart and every breath you take making it worse. You get used to it, but it never lessens. It always hurts.  
  
The rest of the world doesn't understand. Of course, I never really expected them to. But still...  
  
I got lucky. I found my other half. It was a damned miracle all the same. But the feeling, when two souls mesh and make something far better than either one was alone... It's amazing. A little scary at first. All right. Down right terrifying.  
  
At first, it was so natural and so complete, I felt like he was a part of me. I wasn't scared, why should I be? Then I started to notice him more. He got stronger, more bold. I started waking up in places I couldn't remember going. I thought I had epilepsy or something. When we made our first contact, he retreated very quickly. I think he scared himself with his own ferocity, the viciousness he used against our enemy. For a long time, we both sort of worked around each other. Both of us acknowledging that we were two different souls in one body, but neither of us willing to be the one to initiate contact. We kept meshing, uniting to make the better part of both of us. It worked, and we both figured, why do something different when what you've been doing all along works just fine? When our wills finally clashed, Seto Kaiba almost lost his life. I managed to stop my other half in time. But I learned that he was not just a reason for me to visit a therapist. He was a force to be reckoned with that I could not just turn off. He had a will and personality of his own. I was scared. When I learned to trust him, everything clicked.  
  
After Duelist Kingdom, our friendship ran deep and strong. I would sit on my bed many a night, legs crossed, Puzzle set in front of me. He would sort of appear in front of me, mimicking my position and appearance. And we would talk for hours into the night. Why? Why talk to someone who shares your every moment, your every breath, for hours? Because he was there, he listened, and he understood. And I didn't do all the talking, either. He slowly began to open up to me, revealing more of himself. More of his desires, more of his fears. We helped each other.  
  
Whatever came our way, we could handle it. We had each other. And with every trial, every challenge, our bond grew deeper. We both grew stronger in every aspect of life, always side be side. There's something very comforting in knowing that when you wake up, when you go to sleep, when you do anything at all, even breathe, your other half is there, watching you and protecting you. Even Ryou will admit to that. It doesn't matter if your other half will condemn someone to death without a second thought. He's your other half. He completes you, and you complete him. It's that simple.  
  
Like I said, the rest of the world can't possibly understand, and I don't expect them to. Of course, I had to learn that. You see, Yami is not me, in any way, shape, or form. He's Yami. He's completely different from me, and yet, he's the same in so many ways. But his difference from me is why he completes me. He might be a killer, but I don't care.  
  
Am I addicted to this feeling of completion? Hell yeah. I'm so addicted it's not even funny. But I'm not the only one. Ryou's got it just as bad. But even so, I never expected what happened. It totally uprooted my world.  
  
It was a Monday. I'm not sure why Mondays are universally hated, but I hate them too. And that Monday had been particularly bad.  
  
I wanted to run home, but my leg hurt too much to run. Some jerk who thought he was God's gift to the world of comedy had kicked me on the back of the leg on my way to the lunch table. The dummy was wearing steel-toed boots. So now, I had a blood stain on the back of my left pants leg, a lot of pain, and my lunch, which had ironically been spaghetti, all down my front. Jou and Honda had both threatened the jerk, but neither one of them could afford to get suspended for fighting, especially on my account. And nothing they could ever do could compare to the threats Yami had been spewing all day since lunch.  
  
// I swear, when I'm done with him, he'll be wishing for death!// he growled.  
  
/ That's not nice, Yami./ I told him dutifully. Even though letting my yami tear that jerk's soul from his body, tear it to itty-bitty pieces, put it back, and then beat the pulp out of him physically actually sounded pretty nice. But Grandpa wouldn't appreciate that, and Grandpa always finds out.  
  
// You worry too much, aibou.// Yami said.  
  
/ I worry just the right amount./ I shot back. He appeared in his spirit form, which I only I can see, beside me. He had to jog a few steps to match my pace.  
  
// Fine. Give yourself an ulcer. See if I care.// he told me haughtily. I grinned, careful not to look at him. We were in a crowded street and everyone would think I was a little on the loony side if I looked up and smiled at someone who wasn't there.  
  
/ Fine with me. And when I'm laid up in the hospital with that ulcer, I'll think, if only I didn't have to worry about my yami so much.../ I thought, even going so far as to sniffle a bit.  
  
// Stop that.// Yami snapped. I pulled my face into a pout and whimpered, exaggerating my limp. // Damn you, Yugi. Why do you have to be so damn cute?/  
  
/ Aw, but how would I get my way with you without it?/ I asked.  
  
// You'd find a way.// Yami said confidently, watching me as I skipped ahead of him, my mood lightening with his presence.  
  
It's moments like that one that make my life worth living. Skipping around on the sidewalk in an imaginary game of hop scotch with my Yami following closely, smiling softly and keeping a jealously protective watch. My protector. My leg didn't hurt as much with him around.  
  
Yami fully materialized as we got into the shop. Grandpa said hello to both of us as we tromped through the shop into the house, and we both gave him similar greetings, Yami with his usual unreadable expression. Once we were safely in the house, though, his serious look melted.  
  
" You. Bathroom. Clean. Now." He barked, herding me to the bathroom. I grinned in amusement. My yami. Too shy to show his face in public without being able to pretend to be me. But far too protective to let me have a cut on my leg that hadn't been cleaned.  
  
" It's not life-threatening, you know." I protested as he forced me to sit on the side of the bathtub.  
  
" Sure it is. To the bastard that put it there." Yami responded. " Now, what the hell is the difference between rubbing alcohol and hydrogen poroxide?" he asked.  
  
" Hydrogen poroxide hurts more." I offered.  
  
" How do you feel about rubbing alcohol?" Yami asked quickly.  
  
" Not much better." I said with a grimace.  
  
" Suck it up." I was told. " Now, how do I do this?" he asked, looking at me sheepishly.  
  
" You sound like Yami Bakura." I said, taking the alcohol and a wad of toilet paper. Yami instantly flared.  
  
" How can you compare me to that... That..."  
  
" Tomb robber?" I volunteered.  
  
" That wasn't exactly what I was looking for, but it works." He agreed.  
  
" You two would die of shock if you ever realized how much alike you actually are." I told him. Yami instinctively pulled my injured leg up so that it was propped up on his thigh, reading my needs before I could rightly express them. I positioned the toilet paper under the cut after pulling up my pant leg, so it would catch the liquid. Yami took the bottle of alcohol back from me, and dumped some over the wound. I winced as the tart scent assaulted my nostrils and the sting ran up my leg, but I didn't make a sound.  
  
// Aibou?// Yami asked me mentally, dabbing at the cut to get the excess rubbing alcohol.  
  
/ Yes, Yami?/ I thought back.  
  
// You're crying.// he pointed out. I laughed and wiped away a few tears.  
  
" Sorry." I said quickly.  
  
" The first difference between me and that tomb robber is that I don't demand absolute lack or emotion from my hikari." Yami said happily. I smiled up at him.  
  
Yami bandaged my wound, and then let me move around enough to get to my room to do my homework. And even then, I had to pout and wail to get that much.  
  
" Remind me one more time what the point of you doing that stuff when we could be doing something worth while is?" Yami suddenly asked, pulling himself into a sitting position from his sprawled position on my bed.  
  
" So I can learn." I responded.  
  
" And the point of that?"  
  
" So I can graduate."  
  
" And that?"  
  
" So I can get a decent job."  
  
" What's wrong with dueling?"  
  
" That's not considered a decent job. And if you don't shut up, I'll never get this done!" I cried in exasperation. " By the way, you wouldn't happen to know what year Caesar was killed, would you?"  
  
" Who?" Yami asked, cocking his head curiously. It's amazing how many of my habits he adopted.  
  
" Never mind." I said.  
  
" Are you done yet?" Yami asked a few minutes later. I slammed my book shut.  
  
" I guess it doesn't matter." I muttered. At which point, my dear yami decided to lighten my mood by chunking a pillow at my head.  
  
" Ah!" I cried. " Why you-!" I choked out, diving at him.  
  
Yami and I wrestle a lot. We always did. It's our way of playing and relaxing when one of us is too stressed. We were just two teenage boys, closer than the best of friends, just having a friendly wrestling match.  
  
" I don't know why I bother." I muttered as Yami pinned me down. " I never win." I added.  
  
" You cannot withstand my superior might." Yami announced. I pouted. " And I cannot withstand your superior cute face." He added, rolling off me onto the bed beside me.  
  
If Yami had been anyone else, I wouldn't have been comfortable laying on a bed beside him. But he was my Yami. And he would never hurt me. My faith in him was as unshakable as my devotion to him. So we both lay there, gasping and grinning, both of us just basking in the feeling of completeness. Two halves together, to become something better. So I didn't think about it when he wrapped a well-muscled arm around my narrow shoulders. The feel of his large hand pulling me close to his deep chest felt right. Who was I to protest? Why would I protest? I just lay there, happy to be near him. I didn't notice when his breath became even and deep, or when he turned his head to stare at me. But when I did notice, I turned to look at him. That was the beginning of the end.  
  
Our gazes met and locked. The others say we look enough alike to be twins. We both disagree. We do look alike, startlingly so. Enough alike to be mistaken for brothers, but not twins.  
  
To start with, Yami is much taller. Sorry, boys and girls, but I'm short and that's the way it's probably going to stay. Yami's shoulders are broader, his physique more developed. Our faces are different. Yami's face is sharper and more angular than mine. Finally, our eyes. The color is almost exactly the same, but Yami's have a texture and tone very different from mine. His are rougher, colder, and more calculating. They've sent a lot of people to their deaths terrified, those eyes of his. Only I've seen the gentle look they have, only I've seen them melt in the warmth of our affection.  
  
When I looked him in the eye, warmth spread through me like an unstoppable fire. A fire I didn't want to stop. Completeness. Joy. Every positive emotion you can ever imagine was bursting inside me like fireworks. Those eyes of his, so saturated in everything I was feeling, I thought I saw the film of tears. I wanted to say something, anything to save myself from drowning in those emotions, but I dared not make a sound.  
  
Very few people see Yami near as much as I do, and no one sees him the way I do. He's like a spider's web. He's intricate, so perfectly tangled in his own personal mysteries that even he can't begin to unravel them. He's strong enough to withstand every hardship the world can throw at him, and delicate enough to carry me to bed when I fall asleep on the couch and tuck me in. And finally, he's beautiful. Like a spider's web in the dawn's first light with tiny dewdrops clinging to it. When he lifts his chin and raises his eyebrows, he's beautiful. He's always handsome and attractive, and girls practically fall into his lap, but no one sees his true beauty but me.  
  
Right then, he was all that existed to me. He was my everything. The color of his eyes, the texture of his skin and hair, his scent, it was all the most vivid I had ever experienced. He was intoxicating, but I knew that like the spider's web, he had hidden dangers beneath the beauty. I stared at him, awed, scared, but so complete... It was amazing.  
  
// Aibou?// he thought reluctantly, hesitant to break the wonderful spell that had settled over us.  
  
/ Yes, Yami?/ I responded, equally quiet and hesitant.  
  
// You're crying again.// he told me. I smiled and reached to wipe away the tears that ran unbidden down my face, but he stopped me. His large hands wrapped around my wrists and pushed them back down. Then he reached up and began to wipe the tears away for me. The tender, gentle press of his skin against mine was enough to make me cry more.  
  
Surprisingly, I was the one who started it. It was sudden, like a spasm. My head suddenly lurched forward. But Yami was ready for me. Passion and that addictive feeling of completeness rushed through mine veins as his lips pressed against mine.  
  
Even though I initiated it, he had to guide me on. His experimenting fingers teased up my back, making me shiver. With gentle murmurs that had no lingual meaning, he coaxed my lips into parting, tenderly pushing his tongue into my mouth. His gentle touch grew more persistent, his kisses more earnest.  
  
Up until that point, there had been no time to be scared. Like so many other things that involved him, there had only been time for action. Then it all hit me, like ton of bricks. I was laying on my back, my yami on top of me, kissing me passionately. And I was liking it.  
  
Yami must have sensed my sudden tension, because he sat up rather suddenly. We were still in a very intimate position. In fact, he was straddling me. What was I supposed to do. All I could do was lay there and look up at him. I shuddered a little. Why? Fear? Disgust? I didn't think so. I was scared, yes. Scared of the intensity of the emotions I was feeling, even a little scared of him. But I wasn't disgusted.  
  
For a long moment, we sat there and stared at each other. Then, quite suddenly, he was gone.  
  
" Yami?!" I asked frantically, sitting up. No answer. I didn't try to call him again. I didn't try to get him out of the Puzzle. If he wanted to hide, that was fine with me. See if I cared. But the problem was, I did care. I cared a lot.  
  
The problem about not speaking to your yami is that they never go away. They're always there. You may not know it, but they are. So I went to school the next day, sorely missing the usual bantering in my head, replaced today by a tense silence. My friends had no clue, and I wasn't about to tell them. When Anzu asked how Yami was, I said he was fine. I had no actual clue how he was doing. Jou asked if Yami wanted to duel him, and I said that Yami didn't think he was worth the effort. Jou fumed, and everybody laughed, buy there was still only silence in my head.  
  
I couldn't stop thinking about him, about what had happened. And the more I thought about it, the more I thought about other things. Like the way he touched me, the way he kissed me... the more I thought about how I was drowning. He completed me. We were made for each other. But was it right...? Was what almost happened right? I was drowning in something addictive, so beautifully addictive, it had to be a sin. I thought that it was. I was drowning in his darkness, addicted to him and everything he represented. And God help me, I didn't want to be saved.  
  
" Yugi!" someone called as school let out. I turned my head to see Ryou, running up to me.  
  
" Yeah?" I asked, eager to get him. Ryou paused to catch his breath.  
  
" It happened, right?" he asked. I stared at him.  
  
" What happened?"  
  
" Between you and your yami." Ryou elaborated. I looked away sharply, unable to lie to his face. Ryou had that ability, to make you not want to lie to him. " It's okay." Ryou was quick to add. " I was scared too, when it first happened to me." I gave him a questioning look. " Yeah, he doesn't seem like the type, does he?" he asked with a laugh, referring to his own yami.  
  
" Not really." I said slowly.  
  
" Look, it's scary. I know from experience. But it's not as bad as it looks. No one will ever understand, so don't try to get them to. I still don't entirely understand.  
  
" Okay." I agreed, a little relieved that Ryou was sympathetic to what was plaguing my mind. " Any advice on how to get him to talk to me?"  
  
" What'd you say?" Ryou asked as we started off in the direction of both our homes.  
  
" Nothing! He just isn't talking to me." I said, suddenly very shy. This seemed like a pretty personal thing to be talking about. But then, Ryou was probably the only person in the world that had a clue what I was going through.  
  
" Well, our yamis are a lot alike. They both have really big, really fragile egos." Ryou said. Then he laughed. " And mine is now yelling that yours is the one with the ego." I laughed as well.  
  
" Yeah, I bet he is." I agreed.  
  
Ryou walked with me until he had to go another direction. Then I was on my own. Which was seriously weird if you've become used to always having another presence in your head.  
  
Home was very quiet. The silence used to be a part of my life, what with Grandpa working in the shop and my lack of friends. After Jou and Anzu and Honda all came into my life, things definitely started to liven up. And after Duelist Kingdom, Ryou became a part of the group. And Yami. My life was constantly full of noise and gossip with all of them. Then Malik and Isis, and Shaddi's occasional visits. My life was utter chaos, and I can't say I didn't like it. Even if none of my friends were around, I had Yami. And now, the silence had returned. And it was depressing.  
  
It reminded me of when I was still just a half. Back when I believed that the only one who gave a rat's butt about me was Grandpa. I began to wonder if even that was true. How long had it been since Grandpa had asked me how my day was? I couldn't remember. None of them were here when I needed them. It had always been that way, when I really needed them. Just me and Yami. And now, I had lost him too.  
  
I knew I should eat something. So I started off toward the kitchen. I meant to go to the kitchen. I really did. So you can imagine how I felt when I found myself standing in my room. I looked around myself, marveling at how I had gotten there. And my eyes landed on the bed. Where "it" happened.  
  
I don't know what came over me. One moment, I'm standing there looking at the bed and thinking. The next, I'm blubbering like a baby. All of the sudden, it was too much for me to bear. The feeling that my friends were drifting, my growing emotions for my own yami. It was all too much. So I flung myself on the bed and wailed, content to know no one could hear me, or care.  
  
I don't know how long I cried. It may have been a few minutes, or maybe a few hours. No one cared, no one could hear, so what did it matter? I kept telling myself I was being silly, crying like a little girl, but I didn't stop. Sometimes, people just need to cry. But at some point, I began to notice a gentle hand rubbing my back and stroking my hair. And a deep, soothing voice gently singing a lullaby in Egyptian. But even though the words were foreign, a deep part of me knew them.  
  
" Sleep now, little one,  
  
Know you no fear.  
  
Think only of my love,  
  
And that I'm always here."  
  
I sighed, and my shoulders shook a little involuntarily. I sensed him next to me, sitting on the bed. How could I ever think he would leave me?  
  
" Don't stop." I pleaded softly. I needed to feel him, hear his voice. I needed it more than I needed to breathe. I could feel him smile, and I smiled myself as he lay down next to me and continued stroking my hair and sang on in my ear.  
  
" For as long as the river flows,  
  
And Ra rises with the morn,  
  
May every good soul know  
  
From you I can never be torn."  
  
I guess I breathed in sharply, or tensed, or something, because Yami fell silent beside me. Then, I felt his lips, so soft I was reminded of rose petals and summer rain, against the back of my neck. It gave me the most wonderful goosebumps I'd ever had.  
  
" Aibou, if you want me to stop, I will." He whispered. God, I didn't want him to stop. I never wanted him to stop. I wanted it to go on forever. But just like before, I couldn't speak. So I shook my head no. Again, his lips fluttered against my neck. So light and gentle. I wanted to roll over and look him in the eye, but I was melted to a quivering mass in his arms. He put his arm over me, around my middle, and pulled me against him, my back against his chest. Through both our leather shirts and the thick muscles on his chest, I could feel his heart.  
  
Everyone thinks Yami is dead. If he is, tell me this; how can a dead sweat? How can a dead guy's heart pound? Because Yami's heart was pounding. I felt it very acutely, pounding against my back. That's a funny thing about us. My heart will beat, and in the off beat, his heart will beat, almost as though answering mine. It's like a nonstop song of beats.  
  
His hand teased up my chest. A very small part of me wanted to plead with him to stop, but I paid no heed to it. I still didn't know if it was right, but... How can something that felt so good be wrong? The funny thing is, they say the road to Hell begins with the best intentions. His lips pressed to the back of my neck, and I could feel the rough wetness of his tongue. I knew what he wanted. I could feel his emotions and desires as sharply as I felt his body against mine. His hand found the buckles of my shirt, and he began to fumble with them blindly. I smiled softly and rolled so that I lay on my back. That made it easier for him.  
  
Ryou was right. No one else would ever understand. They'd never understand the beauty of what happened between us that night. No one else would understand my addiction. Only Yami understands. How is it so hard to understand? I don't know. All I know is that even if the rest of the world rejects us, I have him. I'll always have him.  
  
Light is drawn to dark. Dark is drawn to light.  
  
This is my reality, my addiction. I'm drowning in his darkness, but please don't save me. I'm addicted to it, and what you think is for my own good might kill me. As long as I have him, I'm okay. Addicted, but okay.  
  
The End  
  
  
  
A/N: Oh my God. I cannot believe I wrote that. (slams head on keyboard) Well, the good news is I feel much better now. ^_^; You can expect the next part of TGOL soon. Sometime. As soon as I write it. Yeah, I like that one. Oh yeah, Yami's song is mine. If you wanna use it, please ask. And if I made any mistakes, just be gentle. Now click the pretty little review button and remind me about how I've totally lost it.  
  
P.S.- Just so you know, I have absolutely nothing against yaoi. I just can't believe I wrote it. Thank you for reading... I think. 


	2. BakuraxRyou

Dark Addiction  
  
By: Rogue Fox  
  
A/N: Okay. I wrote a sequel. It's Ryou/Bakura, and don't ask me why. I don't know. I'm really worried about myself, though. I'm not eating, I can barely get out of bed, I'm writing mushy yaoi fics, and I've been avoiding my jobs. Namely, writing on TGOL and the school newspaper like I'm supposed to. That and doing school work. As we speak, I'm supposed to be working on geometry. But that bitch of a teacher didn't explain it to me, and I missed class yesterday! I don't know how to simplify radicals! I'm still not entirely sure what a radical is! v_v Okay, here it is. Corny fluffiness and yaoi ahead. You have been warned. Be sure to have your toothbrush handy to brush your teeth or you'll get cavities, and if you're the teary type, a box of tissues. I personally lack tear ducts! ^_^ Lucky me! Oh yeah. POV is the same throughout the fic, so don't worry about it.  
  
Key:  
  
" Blah blah" = You oughta be able to figure this out.  
  
/ Blah blah./ Ryou to Bakura  
  
// Blah blah.// Bakura to Ryou  
  
P.S.: To those of you that don't know, Bakura is just a short way of saying Yami Bakura, and Ryou is the little aibou we all can't help but love. I don't want to type out Yami Bakura every time I say his name. Ryou also refers to Yami Bakura as Yami. Just so no one gets confused.  
  
*+*+*  
  
Silence. Just peaceful, beautiful, blissful silence.  
  
Okay, I was a little worried. You know what they say about the eye of the storm? I live by that. But... I do love to have some peace and quiet every now and then. No car horns, no fighting teenage guys, no squealing girls, no radio blaring, no TV droning on and on. Just silence. Complete lack of noise.  
  
I dropped my bag in the foyer and kicked off my shoes, stepping into the house. I listened carefully. To my knowledge, my yami hadn't materialized. But that didn't necessarily he actually hadn't. My Yami does a lot of things without me knowing. I'm not sure how, since I can't seem to have a thought without him knowing, but he does. But listening wouldn't do any good either. Yami didn't get past all the Pharaoh's best guards by making noise. He never makes any noise when he walks or moves. So I have to rely on sensing his presence to prevent myself from having a heart attack every time he decides to give me a scare. Which isn't very reliable, since that sense turns on and off on its own. So I have a lot of heart attacks.  
  
I tiptoed through the house, unwilling to disturb the silence. Just me and the silence. And my ever present yami. But he was being very quiet as well, so I decided he must be napping in his soul room. If my yami doesn't care if someone sees him, then he's perfectly visible. If he doesn't want to be seen, then no one does. He has absolutely no inhibitions. He rarely uses soul speak. If he has something to say, he says it out loud. I wish I could be more like him. I wish that a lot. But I think about everything I do and say. I don't live in the moment like he does. But I suppose, if I was more like him, then he would have to be more like me. And that sort of defeats the purpose. One of the cons about having a yami. Everything you are, he contradicts. He has to, or neither of us would be able to exist. He's my other half.  
  
" Could you possibly think quieter?" a voice asked suddenly. My heart leapt into my throat as I spun around. But even as it did, I knew who said it. Yami did. I don't know why he always startled me. You'd think I'd get used to it.  
  
" You scared me!" I cried, placing a hand over my heart, trying to still its rapid beating. Yami rolled his eyes.  
  
" I know, idiot. I feel everything you feel." He reminded me roughly. " You think too loud. I was trying to sleep."  
  
" Sorry." I mumbled, casting my gaze downward. I hated making him angry. Not just because he got scary and violent when he was angry, even though that was a big part of it. But because I wanted him to be happy and proud of me. But I knew he thought I was just a weak, sissy thing. Sometimes I thought I wasn't worthy of being his hikari. Maybe there had been some mistake.  
  
" There was no mistake, you dummy!" Yami cried, glaring at me. I winced. Of course, he hears my every thought. I only hear what he wants me to hear. " There's no such thing as mistakes with this kind of thing. Unless we're talking about that damn Pharaoh." He growled, stalking noiselessly into the kitchen. I watched him go, thoroughly confused, as always.  
  
He always confused me. One second, he'll be touching my face and giving me this soft look that he saves only for me, the next he'll be calling me a wimpy idiot. I decided a long time ago that his often sudden changes from love to anger were from his own embarrassment at showing so much emotion. My yami is very moody. And very dangerous.  
  
I often wondered about him. Did he really love me, or was it a simple heat of the moment sort of thing? He never said "I love you," even though his emotions were boiling to the point of madness. I may not hear his thoughts, but I feel his emotions. He can't hide that from me. The things he feels... they're so powerful and vibrant, painfully so. I hurt when he feels those kinds of things. It makes us both hurt. His every emotion is as clearly honed and sharp as a brand new knife. He gets lost in his emotions, and it scares him. More than he'd ever admit, even to himself. He'll do terrible things in the heat of his rage, and several times he's tried to kill himself in the depth of his sadness. And his passion... His passion is more than enough to consume us both. But did he love me? Or better yet, did I love him? Yes, I had lain with him in bed. Yes, I had made love with him. But did I love him? I sighed. Who was I to have thought I could advise Yugi on this?  
  
I shuddered a little as I walked up the stairs to my room. I had lain in the arms of killer. Someone who had almost killed me. Someone who had used me as a pawn, a tool to meet his ends. But then, that beautiful feeling of being complete, being one and whole... It sort of overrode all logic. And worst of all, I had enjoyed it. I enjoyed it when he kissed me. I enjoyed it when he gathered me close to him and held on to me like he was going to drown without me. I enjoyed thinking that he was my soul mate.  
  
I thought back to when he first merged with me. He was bolder than Yugi's yami was. I remember waking up in a back alley with a bunch of bullies from school that had been picking on me laying around me, all unconscious. I got scared and ran home. The next day, I heard on the news that those bullies had been found, and apparently none of them could remember who they were. A few of them were reported to be stark raving mad. And that was only the beginning. I kept waking up in places I couldn't remember going. I'd fall asleep suddenly, too. In the middle of school. While I was cooking. In the shower. I remember considering going to a psychiatrist. I thought something was really wrong with me. I decided something was very not right when I started falling asleep while playing games with my friends, and when I would wake up, they had gone mad too. I decided to move, which I did. I knew for sure he was there, now. I thought I had multiple personalities, or something like that. I thought I could control him. Big mistake. No one can control him. He can't even control himself. And that's the scariest thing of all.  
  
I had seen Yugi a few weeks back in school, and I had known, beyond all doubt. The hollow, shelled look in his eyes. The slumped way he walked and sat. He walked in the room, and my yami roused himself from his nap to see what had snagged my interest so suddenly. He became very awake very quickly.  
  
// Ha! That stupid Pharaoh finally made his move!// he cried, thoroughly amused. // Damn idiot. Shook the kid up.// he added. I almost detected a hint of sympathy for Yugi. But he was back in his soul room before I could question him. So I approached Yugi about it. And I was glad I could do him some good. God knows no one could help me when it first happened to me.  
  
It was Christmas Eve, when it first happened. I remember because my father was away on a dig, and my sister had been unable to come home from college. So I was alone for Christmas. With the exception of my yami, of course. But he neither understood nor celebrated Christmas, so that wasn't exactly uplifting. And back then, he was still very violent.  
  
Despite popular belief, Yami has never hit me with the intent of actually hurting me. There have been a few accidents, which one has to expect with such a violently tempered guy in the house. Like when he threw the remote control across the room and I just happened to be in its path. And there were a few times when he lost control of himself. I still have a scar across my chest where he almost gutted me. He was so upset with himself afterward, he tried to kill himself with the same knife that almost killed me. I barely stopped him.  
  
Back then, on that Christmas night, he was still confused about the new age he had found himself in, and still sore about Yami Yugi kicking his butt. So, he was very moody and very violent. He had gotten angry with the TV because all that was on was Christmas specials. And even though the idea of Christmas was well beyond his time, he had already figured out that it was one of those mushy holidays. And after Valentine's Day, he was quite wary. In his rage, he had kicked a bookshelf. Which, in turn, toppled over. And hit me in the head.  
  
When I came to, I had a splitting headache and my vision was hazy. I was also extremely groggy. My sixth sense came on to make up for my distorted vision, and I sensed my yami moving, somewhere out of my line of sight.  
  
" Yami?" I moaned softly, longing to see him. He was dangerous. He was scary. But I needed him. I remembered too clearly when Yami Yugi had sent him away. I remembered the pain as he was torn away from me. And I was terrified of losing him again. But it was more than the memory of the pain that drove me to call for him. It was a desire so deeply embedded in me, I could never begin to deny it. He was suddenly there, in front of me. Relief washed over me.  
  
" Stupid little idiot. I'm not going anywhere. Where would I go?" he asked. There was no conviction in his voice, no snarl. He spoke softly, gently. I couldn't remember him ever talking like that. Ever.  
  
" I... I don't know. I couldn't see you... I got scared... I'm sorry." I said finally, feeling stupider than usual. Yami got down on his knees next to the couch and leaned his head on my shoulder.  
  
" You've got no reason to be sorry. I'm the one who needs to apologize." He whispered. I could feel my pulse quickening, and a blush spreading across my cheeks. No one, not even my father, had ever been so close to me. I didn't know what to do. // I'm sorry, aibou. I can't seem to keep you safe. You always seem to get hurt.// he told me, resorting to soul talk.  
  
/ It's fine, Yami. I've been hit in the head before. It was an accident, anyway./ I thought back, both excited and frightened by his nearness.  
  
// How can you do that? Forgive me so easily?// he asked in disbelief, raising his head to look at me. I smiled up at him.  
  
/ Well, I know you didn't mean for the shelf to fall on my head, so there's nothing to forgive./ I said. He was silent for a moment, and I noticed a very faint blush spreading on his cheeks.  
  
" Um, how does your head feel?" he asked, speaking out loud again.  
  
" A little painful, but it's not too bad." I said, sitting up. I swayed a little as I did, just a little. But that was enough. The next thing I knew, I was wrapped up in his arms like he would never let go. He buried his face in my hair and I relaxed into his grip, relishing in the feeling of being so complete... The feeling I would never have know without him. I owed him everything. I owed him my very existence. How could I ever repay him? Something wet hit my hair. I felt my eyes go even wider. Was he crying? No way. There was just no way. But... He was.  
  
" Y-Yami?" I asked, scared all over again.  
  
" I'm sorry." He said suddenly. But he didn't move. So I just held onto him as he continued. I sensed that he needed me to hold him more than I needed him to hold me. " I'm sorry." He repeated. " I'm the worst yami ever. I hurt my hikari, I can't do anything right. You deserve someone better."  
  
" No." I said, surprised by the strength in my voice. " I don't care. I don't want anyone else." He raised his head and leaned close to me, so that our cheeks pressed together. We laid down on the couch together and he whispered to me, telling me everything. Why did he hate Yami Yugi? Because he was jealous of how everyone thought Yami Yugi was so much better than him. Because he knew, deep down, that Yami Yugi was the better yami. Why was he so violent? Because he was scared... Of so many things. Of this age, of his power, of himself... The only thing he wasn't scared of was me, and in a funny way, he was scared of me too.  
  
We finally slipped into silence, laying there together and staring at the fire that had been burning all the while in the fireplace. We had talked for hours, at least. The night had fallen, but neither of us cared. In a way, we were both longing for each other. We were both so lonely. I guess I dozed off, because the next thing I remember is a rising to a groggy consciousness, feeling a gentle hand stroking my hair and touching my cheek. I opened my eyes, still partially asleep. I had been dreaming that I was a little kid again, and my mom was making cookies. I could barely remember my mother. So in my haze, I thought it was my mom. But the eyes that met mine weren't my mother's. She had dark blue eyes. The eyes I saw were identical to mine in color, but so different.  
  
Emotions flooded through my veins, some of them not even mine. Our link was wide open. Everything he felt, I felt, and vice versa. Yami had picked himself up and had placed his face inches from my own. Our noses almost touched. My breath caught in my throat. I couldn't breathe, I couldn't move. All I could do was lay there and look up at him.  
  
He kissed me for the first time that night. I kissed him back. That was our first night together. The first night of many when I would lay next to him. The first time he showed me in entirely nonverbal term exactly how much I meant to him. We woke on Christmas morning on the floor next to the couch, wrapped up in each other's arms.  
  
I blinked suddenly, returning to the present with a bit of a slam. I was standing in my room. I'm only seventeen, I thought. I was only sixteen last year, when it first happened. I wondered if I had made a mistake. If we had made a mistake. I had wondered that before, though. And I had always decided that it was impossible to tell right from wrong in a relationship like ours. The lines between reality and fantasy, right and wrong, and even between light and dark became blurred and unclear. When light and dark come together like we did, things are never the same. I didn't know if it was right, but a part of me didn't care. Yami sure didn't. All that mattered was being near each other. Whether it be talking mentally while he's in his soul room, or making love in bed.  
  
Quite suddenly, the light in my room flickered and went out. I blinked, unsure as to what had happened. Then I heard a slam and crash downstairs.  
  
" Aibou!" Yami bellowed. A small smile teased my lips and I looked at my alarm clock, which is battery powered. It was about seven in the evening. I had wandered a lot before I came home, mostly because I was bored.  
  
" Yes, Yami?" I called patiently. I could hear him storming up the stairs. My door was suddenly flung open.  
  
" What happened? Why'd the lights go out?" he asked. I smiled at him and pointed out the window. It had started snowing.  
  
" The snow must have knocked down a power line." I said.  
  
" Oh. I'm still not sure what happened, but that's okay." Yami said, stepping past me to peer out the window. He looked so cute with his nose pressed to the window.  
  
" I'm going to light some candles." I said, starting down the stairs. Yami didn't respond. He likes to watch snow. I discovered that last year. It seems to fascinate him. He won't touch it, and he most certainly refuses to play in it with me, but it still fascinates him. I did go downstairs and light candles. I also started a fire in the fireplace. I was just finishing up as Yami came down the stairs. I sensed him coming long before he grabbed me from behind, but I jumped anyway.  
  
" Merry Christmas, Aibou." He whispered in my ear, wrapping his muscular arms, that once hauled treasure from the tombs of great pharaohs away from their resting places, around my middle and resting his head on the top of my own head. Christmas was our special holiday.  
  
" Merry Christmas, Yami." I whispered back, resting my hands on his arms and tracing the lines of muscle and sinew.  
  
" It's already dark outside." He noted.  
  
" Cause of the storm." I finished for him. He smiled into my neck.  
  
" Let's go to bed." He requested. I saw that coming.  
  
" It's going to get cold up there without the heater." I protested.  
  
" We can warm it up." He responded, kissing my neck. I felt the goosebumps rising on my arms.  
  
" I'm not going up there." I said stoutly.  
  
" Fine. We'll stay here." Yami agreed. " I like the fire. Better yet, I like the way you look in firelight." I tried to pull out his grip, but he had me tight. Then he nibbled on my left ear. I hate it when he does that, because I always melt. He did it for the first time one of our first nights together, and I almost went mad. Since then, he does it when he wants me in bed and I won't come. And, as always, I melted into putty in his hands.  
  
He pushed me down to the floor, in that gentle yet urgent way I knew too well. His questing hands tickled up my chest, searching for the buttons of my shirt. His lips pressed against mine hungrily, and I could feel his every emotion surging forward. Painful emotions that just made him press against me harder. And I felt my own joy. He was mine, and I was his. His hikari, my yami. I didn't care if I was tying myself to him forever. I didn't care, because I could never escape from him anyway. I didn't want to.  
  
I lay awake a few hours later. Yami had already drifted off to sleep, but I was restless. I stared at the flickering fire that danced in the fireplace, casting twisted shadows over my soul mate's face. He lay between me and the fire, covered by the blanket he had dragged from upstairs. His skin was pale, but darker than mine at the same time. My skin, he often told me, was like pale porcelain. His was a sort of dusky light peach, the bare remnant of a once darker tan. Of course, he could never have been as dark as Yami Yugi is now, and most certainly never Malik. But he was once at the darkest he could be, and the remains of that old glory could still be seen, along with old calluses and the muscles that came with his hard lifestyle. He retained his leanness.  
  
Right and wrong, light and dark, they had become confused in my mind. My yami... The very title means dark. He's dark, evil, dangerous, wrong... But at the same time, he was so wonderful. I loved him. There was no doubt in my mind. I did love him. Whether it was real, true love, or an obsession born of the beautiful things that he made me feel, I didn't care. I am a part of him. He is a part of me. Without Darkness, Light cannot exist. Without Light, Darkness cannot exist. So why fight against something so primal and basic?  
  
I looked at the clock on the wall and saw it was nearly midnight. The fire was burning low, and most of the candles had burned dangerously low. So I pulled myself out of our makeshift bed and put a few more logs on the fire, and blew out the candles. I shivered. I wasn't wearing anything, and it was cold, so I hurried back to Yami's side. Unfortunately, I had woken him.  
  
" Where did you think you were going?" he asked gruffly.  
  
" To fix the fire and blow out the candles." I whispered, hoping I hadn't angered him. He closed his eyes and heaved a sigh.  
  
" Little idiot." He muttered. I smiled. He wasn't angry. So I lay down next to him and cuddled close against him. He wrapped an arm around my shoulders as I closed my eyes, finally feeling sleepy. " My little idiot." He corrected himself, making me smile again. And then the room went quiet as he slipped back into his sleepy sanctuary. Where I would soon join him.  
  
Silence. Just peaceful, beautiful, blissful silence.  
  
I think I am obsessed with him. But that's okay, because he doesn't mind. We are bound together for all eternity. He's obsessed with me, too. And I don't really care about right or wrong anymore. All that matters is light and dark, and that those two never be separated. I'm living a life you might find harmful. Don't worry about it, though. That's what a yami does. He protects his hikari. I'm in good hands. I'm always in good hands.  
  
  
  
A/N: Eeeek! Cute fluffiness! *_* It's too much for me. Okay, I officially think that was way worse than Dark Addiction. But whatever. You guys are the judges. O_o? Am I screwed? Oh, yeah! Merry Christmas! I hope you all had as good a Christmas as I did! Or whatever else you celebrate. Me and my bros got a Playstation 2! I luv it! ^_^ I'm playing Kingdom Hearts and I am officially getting my butt kicked by that dumb three headed dog thing (forgot its name)! And I mean, a very serious butt kicking. As in, that hurt! _ I don't take to losing very well. By the way, if anyone cares, the reason Ryou and Bakura lost power is because we lost power at my house in this big snowstorm. I live in Oklahoma! Our idea of a snow day is three inches! It's nearly a foot out there! ;_; And I can't go out there cause Mommy said no! Oh well. Merry Christmas!  
  
Yami: (cuddles Yugi) She's crazy.  
  
Amanda: ^_^ You get used to it.  
  
Me: _ How'd you get out of your soulroom?  
  
Amanda: ^_^ He let me out. (points to Ryou, who smiles innocently)  
  
Me: Grrrr... If your yami wasn't draped all over you, I'd hurt you.  
  
Bakura: ^_____^  
  
Me: (points to Amanda) Meet my hikari. Mushy little idiot. And I am in no way attracted to her! Ick!  
  
Yugi: Rogue Fox brought us all here to give you something cute to look at and wish you a Merry Christmas.  
  
Me: Hey, where's Malik?  
  
Yami: _ Iunno, and frankly, I don't care.  
  
Malik: (comes running in from foot deep snow outside) Sorry I'm late! Rogue Fox, your neighbor's cows are out again.  
  
Me: v_v; Alright, just cuddle and look cute.  
  
Everyone else: (does so)  
  
Amanda: I made cookies!  
  
Everyone except Rogue Fox: YAY! ^_^  
  
Everyone: Merry Christmas to all!  
  
Amanda: And to all a goodnight!  
  
Me: (grab Amanda and muffle her) Get back in your soulroom! 


	3. MalikxYami Malik

Dark Addiction  
  
By: Rogue Fox  
  
A/N: Okay, I'm back. You wanna know why? This fic got more reviews in one day than I've ever had any fic get! You guys seem to like it, so I guess I'll keep it going. It gives me a break from The Game of Life, anyway, and I seriously need that. In this one, we will be taking a look at the inner workings of the mind of everyone's favorite resident loony (not me! ^_^), Malik Ishtar. I seriously like this guy, and I have yet to seem him with more than two lines on the actual show. Dumb dub. v_v If he seems a little out of character, please don't hurt me. I'm going off of what I've read about him, and how he's been portrayed in fics that I've read. I'm also borrowing a little from my personality, which is, according to just about every YGO personality test I've ever taken, almost exactly like his, so there! Just don't be too mad at me. Same POV throughout the fic, no worries. You know the drill. Malik refers to Yami Malik (or Ishtar, whatever you call that scary dude) as Yami. That kinda of thing. And I think you guys have the key thing down, so I won't do it. I figure you're all intelligent people... Right? Anyway, on with the fic!  
  
  
  
*+*+*  
  
Insanity is really not nearly as bad as everyone says.  
  
No, I'm serious. I really am! Oh, I know what you're thinking. This, from a loon like me? Well, aren't you just the know it all? I'm willing to bet you don't know anything. Nothing about anything at all. You don't know me, you don't know him, and you don't know anything! Right, good job, Malik, let's just convince them you're stark raving mad. And make it worse by talking to yourself! And answering! Great.  
  
I'm not really that crazy. I'm cupcakes compared to my yami. I'm perfectly freaking normal next to him. But then, the yami is supposed to outdo the hikari in a lot of areas. And the hikari is supposed to outdo the yami in others. It's just the laws of conservation at work. For every action, there is a reaction. For every quirk of mine, he has one to contradict it. That's why I hate him. That's why I love him. That's why I can't live without him. And that's why I'm so damn screwed up.  
  
There have been times when I've wanted more than anything to throw that damned Rod out the window and never, ever see it again. But I couldn't. I'd open the window, I'd pull my arm back, I'd get ready to throw it. But I'd never throw it. Whether he was holding me back, or it was just some personal weakness, or something about the yami/hikari relationship, I don't know. All I know is that he's still here.  
  
No hikari has the perfect yami, and no yami has the perfect hikari. We all drive each other absolutely crazier than we already were. We all hate each other, but we love each other, and for some stupid reason we can't seem to ever let go. But you know what? I've noticed something about my yami. He's crazy. He's a lunatic. He's homicidal. I've seen him running around in darkened streets with blood all over him, laughing like the damned loon he is. But despite that, he's absolutely terrified. Of what, you ask? I have no earthly, or otherwise, idea. And he's not alone. That Pharaoh is too, and so is Bakura. They're scared. But just the yamis. We hikaris keep skipping along in the so-called "bliss" the yamis say we live in. Some bliss. I've had nightmares nicer than my reality.  
  
I don't know what scares my yami so bad, but I know what scares me.  
  
" You damn little-" he slipped into Egyptian, cursing me in more ways than I had previously thought possible. I stored the new ones away in my memory to shove back in his face when he wasn't in such a murderous mood. Isis was out. Thank the gods. I have no doubt either she or he would have been dead by now, and seeing as how she was my only family and he was my soul mate, I really wanted them both alive. However, killing something or someone was all that was on my yami's mind.  
  
So I hid. I'm very good at hiding. My yami isn't abusive, persay. Just... oh, what does Ryou call it... violent. Yeah, he's violent. Very violent. And scary. And angry. And... Oh damn, I thought. He had come storming into the room I was in. Double damn, I added mentally. He was pissed. More so than ordinary. Who knew if I was the cause of his anger or not? It certainly didn't matter to him. He wanted something to hurt, though, and I wasn't eager to volunteer. After he had calmed down, he'd find me anyway. And then... Well, that was certainly more pleasant to think about than if he found me now. He stopped in the middle of the room, lost in whatever twisted thing that passes as thought in that warped mind of his.  
  
" I know you're in here." He said suddenly. I decided to use soul talk. He wouldn't be able to identify the source that way.  
  
/ You sure?/ I asked. I can be just as warped as him.  
  
" How else would you hear me?" he asked smugly. Ah, I thought, clever. But I'm not your hikari for nothing.  
  
/ These walls aren't soundproof, and you're no creature of silence./ I retorted. He wheeled around, trying to find me. In the closet, loony, I thought. This was very amusing.  
  
" You want me to explain what will happen if I find you?" he asked.  
  
/ No, not really./ I thought back, wincing physically.  
  
" I won't kill you." He promised.  
  
/ That might have worked on someone else, but not me. You can't kill me. Not without killing yourself./ I thought, feeling very smug.  
  
" Fine. I won't hurt you." He said, sounding very calm. I'm no idiot. I'm not entirely stable, but my reasoning is still very much intact. That's the scariest about him, though. He's crazy and destructive and evil in every way possible. But he's a smart loon. A very smart loon. You've heard the phrase "evil genius?" He gives it an entirely new meaning.  
  
/ Now I just don't believe you./ I said bluntly.  
  
" Why ever not?" he asked, trying to mimic my innocent tone I use when Isis is accusing me, usually correctly, of something. Unfortunately for him, he does not seem to have an innocent tone.  
  
/ Even you can't change moods that fast./ I snickered.  
  
" So little faith in your yami, dear little Malik." He murmured. That damn murmur of his has lured me out of many a hiding place. I didn't want to come out! Gods only knew what would happen if I did. He could go any direction. I could end up with a swollen lip and nothing more, or I could be quivering in a corner begging for mercy. Or, I could be laying on the nearby bed... Hm... But, he didn't appear to be in that kind of mood.  
  
/ I'm not coming out./ I growled.  
  
" We can have fun." He promised. Now, here's the irony; he never keeps his promises. Unless, he thinks he'll benefit from it. He's unpredictable, and I've long since given up trying. But, I'm closer to him than anyone will ever get, and I'm too close for my own good. When you're sleeping with a homicidal maniac, you're not exactly considering your personal safety.  
  
Well, I'll be damned, I thought as he growled and stormed out of the room. Oh, wait, I already am, I corrected myself, smiling wryly. I'd just give him a while to cool down, then he'd come and find me and do or say something sweet that would make me forgive him.  
  
Damned. That's funny word. I looked it up in a few dictionaries once, and almost all of them agreed that the word "damned" means "having been cursed." At least, that's the gist of it. Except for one. The one that didn't say that said "being of a cursed or Satanic nature." That was one of the older dictionaries. I find it funny, personally. I showed it to my yami and he laughed that maniacal laugh and then kissed me. Ferociously.  
  
" You're not damned. I am. That's why you're mine." He told me. I smiled when he did, but then again, he is a lunatic. To prove my point, I remember that he was running around the house screaming something about oranges being out to kill chocolate bars twenty minutes after I showed him the definition of damned. I think. He's hard to understand when he gets like that. I wonder a lot how much of his fits are staged just for appearance, and how many are true psychotic episodes.  
  
I've studied psychology in my spare time. It's very interesting. I advise you to read a little about it. I keep trying to figure out what makes my yami so weird, but I never can. He's sort of antisocial, a personality disorder characterized by lack of conscience and distorted view of right and wrong. People with antisocial personality disorder are destructive, often angry, but they don't feel emotions like concern, love, or happiness. Well, they feel happiness. When they've just brutally murdered someone. My yami's like that, but he does feel love. I know that. He's not a disorganized schizophrenic, because he is very in touch with reality. He just ignores it most of the time. He's not bipolar, because he doesn't really get depressed, or euphoric. Well, he gets euphoric. For very odd reasons. But not depressed. So I gave up trying to figure out what he was.  
  
I stretched as best I could, crouched in that stupid closet. I couldn't hear any more crashes as he overturned things looking for me. It sounded like he had calmed down. To punctuate my thoughts, he came into the room. He radiated a feeling of calm, and I knew he wasn't angry at whatever had brought on his rage anymore.  
  
" I know you're in here." He said. He may have been calm, but I wasn't going to give him the illusion that I'd come scurrying back when he spoke with a calm voice. He's a damn good actor, and I knew he would use that against me.  
  
/ Good for you./ I shot back.  
  
" Why don't you just come out?" he asked. I didn't answer. I didn't want to. That, and he was getting steadily closer to the closet. " Malik." He murmured. He knows I can't stand it when he does that. He fills his voice with such longing, I just have to answer. What's more, it was very uncomfortable in that closet. So I came out. As I stepped into the room fully, I saw moonlight stretching over the floor from the window. Great. Now he was in his natural element. Night.  
  
Night. When shadows creep over the ground as twisted, deformed copies of what they are cast from, made from the pale light of the moon shimmering down from her eternal perch. Like a yami. A twisted, evil copy of the hikari, both only doing what they know. The hikari, glowing and smiling innocently in the light only we know, so pure and bright people are careful around us, as though we might blind them. The yami, twisted shadow made of the purest darkness that can only be cast from the purest, brightest light, so wrapped up in their own personal madness that they forgot how to feel. Two opposites, forever bound to each other. No escape. And when the night comes closing down, trapping us hikaris in the darkness that scares us so, only the creatures born of what frightens us can hold us and soothe away the fear that they caused. We live in a paradox. That which scares us lays in bed at our side, kisses us, loves us. And by the gods, we don't want it to stop. Eternity is at our feet. My yami told me that, about eternity. Time stopped for him, for the Pharaoh and the tomb robber. There's a piece of eternity waiting the pure little lights that dare to face the darkness. So Yugi, Ryou, and I... We swallow that irrational fear that drives us right into the arms of the demons we ran from originally, and hold on tight. We can't let go. We're scared, and that's why we hang on. Even if we're only pulling our fear closer to us. We live in a paradox, a world of contradictions and riddles with no answers. I love my yami, I hate him, and I can't live without him. I've tried, damn that bastard, I tried. But it only made me run to him harder, faster. I'm just a scared little flickering candle, wrapped up in the blanket of darkness he wraps around me to protect me, and to keep me scared. Because in my fear I need him. And as long as I still need him, he still walks, lives, and breathes. He still kisses me until my lips are bruised.  
  
I blinked, suddenly yanked from contradictory thoughts by the feel of his skin on mine. He'd only touched me, and I hadn't zoned out when he kissed me or anything. I was relieved. That would have been great, to piss him off by spacing when he was making out with me. He grabbed me by the waist suddenly, but I was used to his eccentrics. He's carried me through the house over his shoulder before, just because he saw me step out of the bathroom in only a towel and Yami Bakura was in the house. He locked me in my room until Bakura was gone, and then came up with my favorite candy as a peace offering. Then we had sex and he was forgiven.  
  
He kissed me in the present, and I smiled through his kisses. He gets mad at me for little things, but he's needier than me. I don't absolutely have to have him next to me when I wake up in the morning. I love it when he is there, but I don't have a psychotic fit when he's not. Unlike some people. He began to claw at my shirt, angry and gentle at the same time, pushing against me until I was backed up against a wall. With no escape. He always pins me down, as though he's afraid I'll run as soon as I can. Even though he must know that as much as I may want to, I can never run from him.  
  
He always falls asleep before me. We made love that night and he fell asleep on the bed next to me, an arm draped possessively over me. But I lay there, wide awake and knowing that if I tried to get up, he'd push me back down until my ribs began to crack. I wanted to go over to the window and look at the moon, but I barely dared to move. I wanted to work out aching muscles, but once again, no movement allowed.  
  
Have you ever heard of ley lines? It's an interesting theory. They're, theoretically, invisible electromagnetic lines that connect holy places to other holy places, people to places, people to things, things to places, things to things, and finally, people to people. Connecting ley lines tie two or more people together for common purposes or destinies, for friendship, for love, and/or... for the paradoxical relationship between a yami and a hikari. The theory is that the stronger the bond, the stronger the ley line. The ley line keeps getting shorter and shorter, binding the two things it connects together, gradually bringing them closer and closer. As it becomes shorter, it gets stronger. Like a growing friendship, or a deepening love. It seems a little outlandish, but it's certainly interesting.  
  
The ley line between me and my yami is short, and it's strong. It can't be severed, even though the theory states that ley lines are severed by betrayal, deep disappointment, death or something like that. But that's part of being a hikari. You take your yami for what he is, and you agree to be his forever. For all eternity. Eternity, that's at our feet. It's a little disappointing. There are no options, and we most certainly don't get a choice in the matter. Gods know I didn't ask for it. None of us did. Not Ryou, not me, not Yugi. It just sort of happened. One second, I thought I was a little deranged, but otherwise perfectly normal. The next, I'm waking up in places I don't remember going and hearing voices pushing me, persuading me with an irresistible murmur to do things I know are wrong... And I can't stop. It's a fucking addiction, an obsession and I can't stop... I'm not even sure I want to. That damn ley line just keeps pulling me closer and closer to him. I can't escape, I never will.  
  
Ryou's my only confidant. He understands. So does Yugi, but our yami's abhor each other and we're not allowed to speak. Yami Bakura and my yami get along well enough, and Ryou and I are permitted limited contact. Yamis are jealously protective. If he's my obsession, then protecting me is his. That, and destroying the world. Anyway, Ryou understands. We talk about it, when our yamis aren't listening, jealous at the tiniest hint that there might be someone else in our lives. He told me recently that Yugi and his yami are finally sleeping together. Took that dumb Pharaoh long enough. I'm not exactly fond of Yami Yugi, even if I have nothing against Yugi Motou. Yugi's just a kid like me, caught in a situation he didn't ask for. He's just trying to cope. I know Yami Yugi doesn't care for me, either. I'm just his enemy's hikari. I mean nothing to him. When yamis talk, the term "hikari" can be very degrading. We're worth very little. Yamis have all the power. We're just a counterbalance to that power. Our only real worth lies in the emotional value our yamis place on us. Yugi might as well be made of pure gold. Ryou's worth more than Bakura ever hauled from any tomb. And me? I haven't figured it out yet. My relationship with my yami will never be as pure as Yugi's, never as devoted as Ryou's. I sleep with him, but I don't trust him. I'm more intimate with him than I will ever be with anyone else, but the words "I love you" have never passed between us. Never will. Love, the real kind, is not something he's really capable of. I definitely don't love him. He's everything that went wrong in my life. I hate that bastard. But I'm addicted to him. Without him, I'm a damn half and I hate that feeling. More than any hate I can bear for anyone, I hate that feeling. Anything, anyone, is better than that.  
  
I lay there, hating him, loving him, withering and longing to get away, but at the same time, resigning to the knowledge that I never would. I'm resigned to him. He's better than being alone again. No one will ever have me the way he does. With him, I'm protected and provided for. I'm shielded from a heartless world that doesn't give a damn what happens to me. Isis is taken care of. I'm a hikari. I may be the toughest, meanest, most ruthless hikari I know, but I'm still a hikari. It's not in my nature to face that kind of harshness. I shy from it. So I resign. I resign to the closest to love I'll ever have, to the fact that Isis and I are taken care of. That Ryou is safe because he's close to me. I've taken care of them as best I can... by tying myself to a monster. Ryou once expressed to me that he was worried that he had made a terrible mistake by giving himself to Bakura. I just smiled and told him that he did what he had to do. That he did what he was born to do.  
  
You get used to the feeling that you're only a toy. Something to be discarded when its usefulness has been expended. I was born to lay in his arms. I didn't get a choice. What do I want? Who cares? It doesn't matter what I want. I'll never have it. The one I want is bound more tightly than me. What he has is better than anything I can ever give him. I'd only be hurting him by taking him away, because he loves another... I have the best I can have. And for all his faults, all his insanity, I do love him in a strange, psychotic way.  
  
So now you know. You know what I face when the night falls. When the twisted copies are at their high point. Now you know why I fling myself so willingly into the darkness, the insanity. Why I let him have me without a fight. You know, I laugh in the face of the world. I do that because if I don't, I'll cry. Yeah, I know I'm a bitter son of a bitch. You would be too.  
  
Insanity is not nearly as bad as everyone says.  
  
You get used to it, like so many other things. Think about it sometime. When you're driven to do something you would otherwise never do for the sake of a purpose, a destiny you don't entirely understand, you'll understand me very well. Then maybe I'll see you out on the dark streets where red blood stains the ground. Maybe I'll race you into the night, running from demons that we only end up running to in the end. I'm racing against time, against eternity, against everything. In a way, I'm hoping beyond hope for death. For blissful escape from the chains that bind me. But I'll never escape my sinful addiction. It's different for all of us. Yugi's afraid of the uncertainty, Ryou's scared of all the implications... And me? I'm just scared. Just a small, lonely light flickering in the darkness... Me and my insanity... that happens to lay beside me in bed.  
  
  
  
A/N: Wow. That so did not come out the way I planned it to. Malik's awful contemplative. Very little dialogue, probably the shortest thing I've ever written. But hey, if it sucks, tell me so. And once again, I'm really sorry if Malik is out of character. But I put a lot of my own feelings about life in general in this, so hopefully it's not so bad. Now, I'm going to contemplate the probability of parallel universes, e=mc squared, ley lines, and read more Madeline L'Engle. You wanna see what fueled this particular installment? Read "An Acceptable Time" by Madeline L'Engle. Wow. What a book. I love contemplation. ^_^ I highly recommend it. Makes for meaningful writing. Anyway, review and yell at me. Although I have yet to get an actual bad review for this particular fic. And I bet I just jinxed it. So let's hear what you've got to say. Sayonara! ^_~ 


	4. BakuraxRyou Bakura's POV

Dark Addiction  
  
By: Rogue Fox  
  
A/N: Konnichiwa, everyone! I'm back again. And I bet your thinking, "Great, the crazy lady's on the loose again." You're right! ^_^ For lack of anything better to do, I'm gonna turn out a fic in a yami's point of view. Yami Bakura, just because he's so much fun. And I was in the mood for something a little on the evil side. We're still on the original plot, with the first three fics. Just so no one gets confused, because I spend half my life confused and it's not fun.  
  
  
  
*+*+*  
  
I swear, the people of this age are just damn weird.  
  
For starters, the idiots cannot, let me repeat that, cannot make a decent alcoholic drink to save their lives. And I know this from experience. For example; January night. Cold outside, so much so I was starting to wish I hadn't left the house in the first place. I could be home with Ryou, my personal (not to mention super cuddly) electric blanket that would warm me up if I was laying on my back in the Artic. But no, I wanted a change of scenery. I needed some alone time. And I call that Pharaoh an idiot.  
  
Anyway, cold January night. Just wandering around aimlessly, thinking my usual morbid thoughts. Like, exactly how much trouble would I be in if I ripped Ryou's latest bully's arms off and beat him over the head with 'em? I decided Ryou wouldn't take too kindly to the idea. Neither would the law, which is just as screwed up as the people it's supposed to be governing. Of course, I was always something of a rebel. I don't like people, or otherwise, telling me what to do. So I was cold. That was the predominant thing on my mind. Ryou says I live in the moment. I guess I do. How am I supposed to know? Damn, I sure get off track easy. Okay, I was cold, so I go into a bar. A bar, you ask? I look exactly like Ryou, and I, against my will, appear the same age as him. Seventeen. Under the legal drinking age, right? Obviously, you have not spent a fair amount of time near me. I think myself something of an actor, and I'm pretty damn good at it. All you have to do is act like you do whatever it is you're doing, which you probably shouldn't be doing at all if you're anything like me, all the time. And in the particular case, I did do this all the time.  
  
So I ordered my drink and got it without a problem. All that barkeeper cared about was whether or not I could pay for it, anyway. Just to be on the safe side, though, I did cast a suspicious glance in the direction of a burly bouncer. Note to self, don't get into any fights, I thought in amusement. If this wasn't a public place, I could have torn that muscle- head's soul out of his body and put it in a nice inanimate object, like, say, a rock? Or perhaps an old beer can? I chuckled a little at the thought. That would be very amusing. Perhaps I would do that sometime. When Yami Malik was around. Then I could just blame him and avoid getting in trouble with Ryou.  
  
Don't get into any fights. Easy enough. Or so I thought. Until that Pharaoh strutted his stuff into the room and sat at the bar a few seats down. I didn't even notice him at first. I was too busy scowling at that dumbass bartender's back because the drink he gave me was terrible. I guzzled it down anyway. I wanted the alcoholic effect more than the drink.  
  
" Just give me a beer." A voice suddenly assaulted my ears. I almost fell off my stool. Not him, I begged, not him! I decided finally to sneak a glance. Okay, it's him. No problem, just stay cool. Do not go over there and try to murder him. Your chances of succeeding are not good anyway, considering that bastard's sitting right by the muscle-head!  
  
So, what's former tomb robber to do in a situation like this? Trapped between doing what would satisfy that lust to kill my hated rival when he didn't even know I was there (which would probably be dangerous to my personal wellbeing, considering the bouncer), and doing what would most please my precious hikari. I decided on the hikari thing. So I took one last swig of my drink and waited for the moment to make my escape. I'd never been so happy that I don't get drunk. I just go to sleep once I'm sloshed. Unlike that Pharaoh, who's just stinking hilarious when he's drunk. How do I know this?  
  
Okay, Malik (not the yami, mind you) and I were wondering how much it takes to get a Pharaoh drunk. So Malik stole some strong vodka his sister keeps for special occasions. Hey, don't look at me like that, it wasn't my idea! Malik was the one who suggested the vodka thing! And this was a special occasion! It was Ryou's birthday. Who knew Isis liked vodka? Anyway, we spiked the punch with it. And when I say spiked, I mean it seemed like a good idea at the time to dump the whole damn bottle in there. What did not occur to us was that Ryou would be drinking that punch too, as would Yugi. And here's a bit of advice to all you little kiddies; when you spike some punch, especially with a whole bottle of really strong vodka, do not forget you spiked it. I never knew Malik was such a light weight. He was gone after two cups! Passed out on the couch. Isis started to suspect then, and pounced Yami Malik. What that maniac was doing there, I don't remember. Of course, I think it was starting to get to me too by that point, because I don't remember very much. And then things started to get fun. Yugi got sick, and Ryou was fast after him, but I hardly noticed. Why would I, when I had Yami Yugi to pick on? That guy is so funny! By this time, just about everyone had figured it out. And Kaiba, who can take 'em as they come, sent a very woozy Mokuba home. So we turned it into a competition. Who could drink the most spiked punch? And Yami Yugi was right in the thick of it, totally plastered. All you had to do was point him in a direction, give him a shove, and he'd start walking until he hit something. And if you said "Greece," he'd go off on a tirade about arrogant Greeks that ended up being about how the interrupting cow knock-knock joke is so funny. Whatever he drank in that palace of his back in the old times wasn't strong enough. This is the guy that has iron control on himself. It got so bad that all me and Isis had to do was say "mirror" and he'd be rolling on the floor laughing. But then, we were on the floor with him. I woke up the next morning feeling a little sluggish, but otherwise just fine. Isis, who can really handle her alcohol, felt about the same. Kaiba had originally intended to go home that night, but he ended up sleeping on the floor with the rest of us. He couldn't walk straight, much less dial for a ride. So he woke up, on a floor, with hangover, and a very rotten disposition. Ryou and Yugi were royally pissed, not to mention really really sick, and demanded to know who the culprit was. When Isis found out that me and Malik had done it, she actually felt sorry she had yelled at Yami Malik about it, but then Ryou reminded her that he had probably done something worthy of a griping- out anyway.  
  
Great night. Anyway, back to the bar. I seriously did not want that Pharaoh to see me. He's got way more self-control than me, but he can be just as scary and dangerous, if not more, once he is pissed. And if he, the almighty, unable-to-do-wrong, always-in-the-right Pharaoh, was sitting in a bar with that serious look on his face, I was willing to bet he was already on a short fuse. As a matter of fact, I had probably bought myself a one way ticket back to the Shadow Realm just for breathing the same air. That is, if he saw me. And I had no intention of letting him see me.  
  
" Bakura?" he asked suddenly. Well, damn, I thought. Where's that hikari of his when you need him?  
  
" Yeah?" I snarled. I was not going to let him get to me. Just act casual. And yes, I define a snarl as casual when speaking to him. He automatically bristled.  
  
" What the hell are you doing here?" he growled.  
  
" Why do you give a damn?" I shot back. The Pharaoh faltered.  
  
" I don't know. And frankly, I don't give a damn. You could fall off the face of the earth and the only way I would ever care would be if Ryou's missing you affected Yugi." He spat. " And I'd still be glad you were gone, anyway."  
  
" That's a pretty long winded insult." I commented.  
  
" I really don't want to deal with your smart-ass remarks." He declared, turning away from me. Ah, I thought, caught you at a bad time, did I? Lady Luck is finally smiling on me!  
  
" Well, isn't that just too bad?" I said, my voice dripping in mock friendliness.  
  
" Don't make me crush your soul. I will. And I'll enjoy it." The Pharaoh growled at me.  
  
" You wouldn't dare. It'd be all over the news. I can just see the headlines; Teenage Boy Without Records Kills Unidentified Teen Without Laying A Hand On Him." I snickered. " They'd lock you up, not to mention what your precious hikari would do."  
  
" Asshole." That dumb Pharaoh spat at me.  
  
" Yeah, that's real intelligent." I said with a laugh. " Well, I've got better things to do than waste my breath talking to you." I said, walking off with no further come-backs from His Royal Pain In the Ass. And that bouncer glared at me as I went.  
  
The moon was high in the sky when I stepped outside, the cold air jarring my mind back to reality. I looked up at the moon out of habit, and determined the time to be about midnight. I checked the watch Ryou gave me to see if I had been right. Ah, I thought, off by fifteen minutes. It was fifteen after midnight. Still, not bad. So I started off in the direction of the house I called home. Home. It's really a very meaningless word. Or at least, that's what I thought before Ryou. Now, home is wherever he is. No matter how far I go or what I do, I can always come home to Ryou.  
  
I say "before Ryou" like he's an event. He is, to me. He's what happened to me that made me human. Before, I was something of a monster. A thing no one cared about and everyone hated. But after, I became human... No, I became a man. Because without something to care for, the greatest man alive is without meaning. Ryou taught me that. I can't stand meaningless things. Meaningless violence, meaningless chatter... And they wonder why I'm always so annoyed. This entire age is annoying! Everything! People talk and complain and talk and complain some more, but no one ever does anything to make the things they complain about better. They go around and shoot each other just because they've got nothing better to do. Ryou's so different from all that. He's so pure and gentle and warm and everything good in my life. Everything I could ever love is in him. Sometimes I lay in bed and look at him and just marvel that he, this perfect, beautiful, incredible little god, could ever feel anything other than loathing for me, this hateful, bitter old coot that I am.  
  
When I first made contact with him, I expected him to loathe me. Why not? Why should he be any different from anyone else I'd ever met? When he treated me with kindness, it blew me out of the water. When he smiled at me, suddenly I wanted to lay the world at his feet. And then, damn me to eternal fire, he loved me! My god, the one I worship, returned my feelings of love and adoration! The Pharaoh could have slit my throat where I stood and I couldn't have cared unless Ryou wanted me to. Ryou understands me better than I do. He understands why I do the things I do. He understands why I act like such an evil son of a bitch. And he doesn't mind. "If you're being yourself and you're happy, then I'm happy." He told me. He knows I drink. He knows I play pranks on just about everyone. He knows I shoplift sometimes (not often, because he doesn't really like that). He knows I threaten anyone who gets in my way with their life and sanity. Just so long as I don't call too much attention to myself, he doesn't mind. Just as long as I come home in the evening.  
  
I walked into the house at one in the morning, surprised that the lights were still on. Ryou's father (if you can call that asshole that, always leaving Ryou alone) wasn't home. Ryou wasn't much of a night owl, and was always asleep before midnight. Unless I keep him awake. So I couldn't figure out why the lights were on. I kicked my shoes off and walked into the living room and saw the TV was on, and a sleeping Ryou was on the couch. A small book was resting open on his chest, and I found that odd. Why would he be reading a book and watching TV at the same time? Come to think of it, there's no title on that book, I noted. So I picked it up and glanced at the page it was open on. The words were written in Ryou's neat handwriting. Oh, I thought, it's his journal. That little book he writes in all the time rather than talk to me. I scowled a little, and thought about trashing the thing, but then I decided that anything my precious little idiot guarded so carefully was worth my respect.  
  
And then, curiosity took over. I was a tomb robber, and I still am a kind of thief. A reformed thief, as Ryou calls it. I have uncontrollable curiosity. I absolutely cannot stand there being anything I don't know about Ryou. I have to know every little part of him by heart. And what better way to know it all than to read this little book? What better place to start than right here? I knew I shouldn't. But I'm not very good at listening to common sense or my conscience or whatever you call that stupid little voice. So I started reading;  
  
"Dear Diary,"  
  
Damn, he calls it a diary, I thought. Oh well. It just makes me love him more when he does stuff like that, as much as I don't want to admit it.  
  
"Yami's gone out again. I hate it when he goes out for such a long time. I know it's stupid, and I know he'd tell me so, but I've got this irrational fear that he won't come back. I'm just being possessive. But, well, if I'm his, then isn't he mine? They say it takes two to tango. Well, we've got the tango part down. Now if I could just learn to trust him to come back. I feel so stupid. But I want him next to me when I fall asleep, when I wake up... I don't like it when he leaves. I know he needs his space. But I need him!  
  
It's getting late, and I'm getting tired, but I want to be awake when he comes home. I want him to hold me and kiss me and remind me that I'm his. I like being his. If it was anyone else, I'd hate it. But with him... I know he owns me. I enjoy it. Wow, I'm so tired.  
  
There's some dumb infomercial on TV. I think it's about some weight loss program. Whatever. I don't care. All I'm really listening for is the sound of the door opening and Yami's footsteps. Is that weird? I know his every single expression, the way he walks, talks, everything. I know the sound of his footsteps by heart. I even know the way he breathes and the way his heart beats. I like listening to his heart. I just want him to come home. He doesn't know how much it scares me when he leaves, and I won't tell him. He'd think I was being a wuss again. And I want him to be proud of me."  
  
The writing stopped there. I decided he must have gone to sleep at that point. It scares him when I go out? He knows how my heart sounds? Suddenly I felt incredibly guilty. I just took it for granted that Ryou didn't mind my going out. And then I had the nerve to read his personal, private journal? I felt like the all time jerk. He wanted me to be proud of him? Damn it, I was proud. Proud and elated and ecstatic and so in love with him. Proud that he was my hikari. Proud that everything good was embodied in him. Proud to be able to say he was mine.  
  
I looked down at him, still feeling incredibly guilty, which is a very strange sensation for me. I put down the journal and knelt down next to him, gathering him in my arms as gently as I knew how. I was still too rough, and he woke up. He moaned in his sleepiness as those intoxicatingly innocent eyes opened unwillingly and looked up at me.  
  
" Uh... Yami?" he asked groggily.  
  
" Aibou." I murmured, pulling him closer still. He pressed his sweet little face against my chest.  
  
" What time is it?" he asked, sleep still drugging his voice.  
  
" I don't know. I don't care." I said, suddenly feeling angry. Ryou looked up at me.  
  
" What's wrong?" he asked. He knows as well as I do that I always get angry when I'm expressing an emotion like the intense passion that was evoked by him alone. Damn, it hurt! Like a thousand of the sharpest daggers ever made slowly piercing my heart and twisting ever so slowly until I just want to die to end it.  
  
" I'm a jackass." I said suddenly. Ryou gave me a curious look.  
  
" Okay." He said, sounding a little unsure.  
  
" I read your journal." I told him. He gripped my shirt a little.  
  
" How much?" he asked, sounding almost like he had expected me to say that.  
  
" Just the last page. The most recent one." I muttered, still feeling angry and guilty.  
  
" That's okay." He said, snuggling against me. Once again, he amazed me. That ability to forgive and forget is a true gift. I still remember every wrong ever done against me, and I've laid out very intricate plans on how to return each one. Suddenly, I was overwhelmed by the urge to kiss him, to touch him. So I did. Why not? He's mine, and I'm his. I kissed him furiously, crushing my lips against his. And he yielded to me without so much as a bit of struggle. That amazing trust I felt flowing through our link... His lips parted under mine, and I slipped my tongue in and re- explored the already well known regions of his mouth. I felt so damn complete... His hands gripped against my back, pulling me closer as I rolled to get on top of him.  
  
I used to dream about Ryou. When I was young, back in the old times. I felt empty and unfulfilled. I slept with any woman who'd have me, but nothing soothed the yearning I felt. Every night I was visited in my sleep by an angel with eyes so dark against the pale face that framed them, it was like seeing two dark onyx orbs set against silver in a Pharaoh's tomb. An angel that touched my face and stroked my hair, my hair that cast me apart from everyone else. An angel that always fled before morning's light.  
  
Now, five millennia later, I was laying with that angel. I was sore, like I always was after a night like that. Ryou was fast asleep and probably going to miss school. But I didn't care. I don't think he did either. All I cared about was that angelic face of his, that soft, beautiful body pressed against mine.  
  
They accuse us yamis of being possessive. Damn right. So I don't like my possessions being touched. And Ryou counts as a part of that. I'm possessive. Big damn deal. So is Yami Malik, and the Pharaoh puts him to shame. But I can give the Pharaoh a run for his money. The Pharaoh's been known to haul Yugi off when Anzu got too close. I shove myself in the middle when Mai hugs Ryou. Or when Ryou and Malik seem to be getting too cozy. Jounouchi and Honda have met the door rather abruptly quite a few times. And once, I went over to the Ishtar home when Malik was in the shower and I didn't know it. Yami Malik, the maniac, grabbed poor Malik (who was wearing only a towel) and carried him over his shoulder to a bedroom, where Malik was locked in until I left. The look on that maniac's face as he did it was somewhere between jealous protectiveness (how dare I so much as look at his hikari?) and unharnessed pride (Yeah, that's mine, buddy. Jealous?). Of course, I'm just as bad. I'll absolutely drape myself over Ryou to let the whole world know that he belongs to me and me alone. The Pharaoh won't rest unless Yugi is sitting on his lap. No chair or seat of any kind is good enough. Poor Malik has to put up with his yami, who is utterly unpredictable, and sometimes very infuriating. Did you know he once tried to carve the words "THIS BODY IS MINE!" on Malik's back with a knife? I chased him around the Ishtar residence with a bat for that. Then he chased me around with a chainsaw. Yes, a chainsaw. A real, running chainsaw. A very loud chainsaw. Do you have any idea how scary that guy is when he's got a chainsaw in his hands? Needless to say, I set a world record for getting out of that house and as far away as possible.  
  
Yamis are protective. It comes with the job. Supernatural powers, immortality, a Millennium Item, and your very own super-cute hikari, all yours to hold, protect, and have great sex with. What a job. But I wouldn't trade any of it for the world. I wouldn't, for fear that the passion, the emotions would fade. For fear that the one I hold dearest to me would suddenly no longer be dearest. The very thought scared me silly. It made me tighten my grip on Ryou, who smiled a little in his sleep. Little idiot. My little idiot. He drives me wild with passion, pushes me to the edge of my sanity in annoyance, makes me melt in adoration, and holds me still in utter contentment and completion. And I don't even know if I love him. I say I love him, and I act it. But I don't know if it's really that thing people call love. It could very possibly be an obsession. And why not? I do obsess over him. Once, when we were out together (which was an event all on its own), he slipped and fell in a puddle and got all wet. I carried him all the way home right away and made him take a warm bath. Then I made him have hot chocolate, because that always made me feel better and that was all I could think of. He laughed at me and said I was being silly. I didn't care. Nothing, absolutely nothing would ever bring him grief as long as I was around. And I intend to be around for a very long time.  
  
I'm well aware that the rest of the world would condemn us if only they knew the truth. About me, about Ryou. About what I really am. But damn it, can't they see? They call it unhealthy, our so-called friends talk about it all the time behind our backs. It's probably the only thing all us yamis agree about it. Their stupid belief that we're not "healthy" for our hikaris. Hell, I'll tell them what's not healthy! Taking Ryou away from me! Not healthy for Ryou, not at all. Not to mention the frayed edges of madness I'd be pushed to with the agony. And what happens to little mortals who get in my way when I'm like that? I find the thought amusing. But I do remember my last separation from Ryou. I thought... Well, actually, I can't really call what was going on in my head "thought." But I did feel. I wished I couldn't. Every single second, I was wrapped in maddening darkness with no light... I'm a creature of shadow, a child of the purest night. Without light to balance me, I'll slowly slip into madness, poisoned by my own darkness. That's what happened to Yami Malik, you know. Poisoned by his own being, his own shadow. Yami Yugi, too. Some of us recovered more than others. But none of us really came all the way back. Why are we possessive? Because, even that maniac Yami Malik remembers what it's like. It hurts, damn it! It hurts, just being a half. And the darker half, no less. In maddened rage we do the things we do, because death and blood and darkness are what we know. It's all we know. What's that saying Ryou once told me? "We will love only what we understand." Yeah. Or at least, that's part of it. I understand death and dark and blood and hate. And because of that, I love it.  
  
But, then there's Ryou. My counterbalance that keeps me in the realm of sanity. If I was set loose on the world knowing that there was no way to get to him... well, I feel sorry for the world. The people of the world would take him away from me. It's not healthy to be in love with your other self. Damn it, I'm not Ryou. I'm not. I'm not sure who or what I really, truly am, but I know I'm not Ryou. We're very different people. Granted, we were made to balance each other out, but that doesn't make us the same person.  
  
I swear, the people of this age are just damn weird  
  
So there. I'm screwed up, but I adore Ryou. I like to think he feels the same way about me. And you know what? I don't care if it's not healthy. Because at that moment, on that January morning, he opened his eyes and looked up at me. And for me, everything in the world was suddenly right. Why should I care about anything? If I'm going to burn in Hell, then I'm going to have fun before I have to go. If all of Ryou's friends are scared witless of me, let them be. I don't give a damn. Because, moments like that one make or break a person. Ryou is mine. My reason, my world, my heart. So gimme a bottle of sun tan lotion and let those idiots start a Yami Haters Club. Even if I am only obsessed with Royu, and it's not really love. I don't care. Even if this all just a really good dream. Even if it's all going to end tomorrow. As long as I've got Ryou, I'm good to go.  
  
  
  
A/N: Alrighty then. Not sure if I'm gonna continue... Send in some suggestions, if you want me to. ::Sigh:: Sorry for the long wait. I've hit a dry spell in the inspiration department. v_v I did write an AU yaoi fic, but I'm not sure whether or not to post it... It's a plot line separate from this one. Once again, gimme some suggestions. Please? 


	5. YamixYugi Yami's POV

Dark Addiction  
  
By: Rogue Fox  
  
A/N: Well. To answer the rather, um, overwhelming requests, here's another one in the POV of a yami. You'll see who. I hope you guys like it. Now, I'm going to draw and write on the next one of these, and try to work on The Game of Life. ::sigh:: Arigato for reading, and please enjoy! Don't forget to help my pitiful self-esteem and review!  
  
*+*+*  
  
Everyone has their bad days, right?  
  
I mean, everyone has days when they'd just as soon eat dirt than look at themselves. Right? Or maybe I'm just weird. Or, I'm what that tomb robber's always telling me I am- an egotistical arrogant jerk. I sure felt like it.  
  
It was stupid, how it got started. It was just a girl. I mean, gods, my soul mate's with me almost always, why would I ever really look at anyone else? I was just playing around……… Okay, I was being a pain in the ass. It was my fault. I realized that. But that didn't make it any better.  
  
It was cold outside. Very cold. And leather is hardly very insulating. I hate the cold. Always did, always will. Hey, I was born and raised in Egypt. It's warm and dry there, and that's how I like it. Well, at this point I'd like to note that it was my own fault for running out of the house with only a thin jacket on. But I was upset, and I don't like it when I get upset. So I stormed down the street, trying to leave the angry thoughts in my head behind on the sidewalk. Unfortunately, it doesn't work that way. The thoughts I wanted to get rid of only made me feel guilty for thinking them, so they kind of stuck to my mind. Which was bad news for me.  
  
" Damn." I muttered, looking around myself. It was too cold to just keep walking around, so I jogged across the street and slid into a decent looking bar without being noticed.  
  
Yugi would have had my head on a platter if he knew I was in a bar. He knows I drink. How could he not? I mean, I was a Pharaoh once, and wine was the drink of choice. And he doesn't care if I go out and get a drink or two every now and then. He does not like it when I come home sloshed. Which isn't very often. I try not to stray from his side for too long, and it takes a while to get me drunk. Ryou's last birthday party does not count. That idiot tomb robber and Malik poured a whole bottle of Russian vodka in there, and none of us lasted long. Who knew Malik can't take alcohol? Who knew Isis and Kaiba could knock 'em back like that? Anyway………  
  
Why do people in this age like their music so loud? I have no clue, but I don't like it. Especially in the mood I was in right then. I growled, but kept my thoughts to myself. Then I was left with the task of threading my way through the crowd to get to the actual bar. A drunken woman, who must have been in her thirties, suddenly latched onto me.  
  
" Hey, cutie, wanna dance?" she asked, leaning on me heavily. She reeked of alcohol.  
  
" No, not really." I said, removing her arm from my shoulders and fighting the urge to remove her soul from her body, and then replace it in torn tatters.  
  
" Aw, come on!" she pleaded, sliding close to me and shoving her chest in my face. Now I was just repelled.  
  
" No thanks." I growled, turning her and sending her sprawling into the arms of a surprised and equally drunk guy. Then I turned and made my way to the bar without further incident. Thank the gods.  
  
I floundered a little when I actually got to the bar, not sure what to order. I doubted they served worthwhile wine here, so I just went with the safest bet I knew.  
  
" What can I get you?" the bartender asked.  
  
" Just give me a beer." I said with a casual shrug. Normally, I hate breaking rules. But the mood I was in sort of killed any discipline left in me. Next to me, someone suddenly tensed at the sound of my voice. I looked, not really caring, more out of instinct than anything else. I was about to look away when I noticed the white hair.  
  
" Bakura?" I asked automatically. Then I kicked myself mentally. Yeah, just strike up a conversation with one of the people who hates you more than anything else. That's a real great idea.  
  
" Yeah?" came the snarl I should have anticipated.  
  
" What the hell are you doing here?" I asked viciously, more out of reaction to the tomb robber's hostility than anything. Then it occurred to me that if he was sitting in a bar like that, he probably was in a bad mood as it was. And I really didn't want to deal with him right then.  
  
" Why do you give a damn?" he asked me angrily. I faltered. Well, why do I give a damn, I wondered.  
  
" I don't know. And frankly, I don't give a damn. You could fall off the face of the earth and the only way I would ever care would be if Ryou's missing you affected Yugi." I spat at him. Dumb, but it was the best I could come up with right then. " And I'd still be glad you were gone, anyway."  
  
" That's a pretty long winded insult." He told me smartly.  
  
" I really don't want to deal with your smart-ass remarks." I declared. And I really didn't. The tomb robber looked gleeful, and I realized belatedly why. Oh, why does he love tormenting me?  
  
" Well, isn't that just too bad?" he asked, his voice just dripping in mock concern. I hate my life, I muttered mentally.  
  
" Don't make me crush your soul. I will. And I'll enjoy it." I told him. Oh, what I wouldn't give to actually grind his soul into little pieces………  
  
" You wouldn't dare. It'd be all over the news. I can just see the headlines; Teenage Boy Without Records Kills Unidentified Teen Without Laying A Hand On Him." he snickered at me. " They'd lock you up, not to mention what your precious hikari would do." Why did he have to ruin the lovely daydream I was having about a world where he no longer existed?  
  
" Asshole." I snarled at him, for lack of anything else to say.  
  
" Yeah, that's real intelligent." He told me laughingly. " Well, I've got better things to do than waste my breath talking to you." He told me, standing up and walking off. I let him go. I didn't care. I was actually quite glad to see him go. I'd had a bad enough night already, and I didn't need him to make it worse. So I downed the rest of my beer, which was awful, without taking a breath. I was about to order another, when I realized that I only had enough money to pay for the one I'd just downed.  
  
" Damn." I muttered, slamming a random amount of money onto the bar and standing up. I didn't care how much I'd left. Besides, I didn't have a clue how to tell the folded paper apart. If you ask me, using little pieces of paper for currency is just stupid. Gold works just fine. Paper is just dumb.  
  
I felt stupid. I felt stupid, and wrong, and a whole lot of other things. My very existence was an insult to everything I'd always thought I'd stood for. Everyone feels sorry for the hikaris, and in a way, they're right. People like to coddle the lights. They shy from the darkness. It's frustrating. Yes, I understand people like us must be scary as hell, but damn it, we're people too. I understand that by all that's natural, we shouldn't exist. But we do. We most certainly didn't ask for it. Darkness, pure and unharnessed darkness, born into a human body should not exist……… And yet it does.  
  
Gods, I can't expect you to understand. How could you? Have you ever wandered the twisted, inverted pathways of your own mind endlessly, watching the days fade into months, and the months fade into years, until centuries, millennia's have gone by? Have you ever cried and screamed and ripped at your own head trying to chase the shadows out of your mind? Have you ever gripped at what memories you have left and then lose those too? Have you ever stared at yourself in the mirror and wondered, "Who am I? What am I?" And when those questions have been answered, have you ever wanted to kill yourself because you know that what you are, your very soul, is wrong, poisoned by the very thing that made you? After you've done all that, and only then, will you know the pain that a yami knows. Or, maybe I'm the only one who thinks that way. The tomb robber certainly doesn't seem to mind. And Yami Malik was poisoned so badly……… It's one of the few things Bakura and I agree on. Yami Malik is a maniac. I doubt anything that goes on in his head can be called thought, so who knows what he thinks about what he is?  
  
My only solace is Yugi. My wonderful little light. Like a star, burning brightly, surrounded by the ominous darkness that is me. He's the one on whose shoulder I rest my head when my self-loathing becomes too much to bear. Through his hair I run my fingers when I desire something softer than the darkness I know so well. I stare at him when he sleeps next to me and wonder how something so blindingly beautiful and pure could ever, ever love me? Me, the darkness, the poisoned, everything that's wrong with the world. What ever possessed me to leave him?  
  
It was so stupid. I was just being a jackass. A big jackass. Okay, I was being the all time jackass. And as I walked down the dark street in the general direction of home, the whole incident played over in my head.  
  
We were walking together through the mall, earlier that afternoon. I remembered Yugi had coaxed me from the safety of my soul room into the outside world, promising me it would be worthwhile. I think he just likes having me with him. I don't know why, but he does. Anyway, Yugi was dragging me all through the mall, and I was honestly trying to get into the spirit of it. But, five millennia trapped in a shattered puzzle tends to make a person a little antisocial. All I cared about anyway was Yugi. The rest of the world could just go bite themselves, as far as I was concerned. But I put up with the noise and hustle, for him. I'd do anything for him. I don't think he realizes that. Anyway, we were just joking around. And I spotted a pretty girl from Yugi's school. I pointed her out to Yugi and mentioned that she was pretty. Yeah, stupid. He got this hurt look on his face and stormed off, and I couldn't get a word out of him. I made sure no one was looking and returned to my soul room, where I proceeded to methodically beat my head against a wall. Gods, it was so stupid. I felt so damn dumb. But Yugi was upset at me, and I didn't know what to do. So I left him and went out on my own. Now you know how I wound up in a bar.  
  
I wasn't too eager to go back to getting the silent treatment, but I was missing Yugi pretty badly. I wondered if he missed me. Half the time I wonder if he understands exactly how much he means to me. Gods, after five millennia wandering in darkness, how could anyone not adore the light? I was blessed, blessed with this pretty soft little thing, closer to godliness than any other mortal can be. Blessed with this little work of perfection that makes a tiny purring noise in the back of his throat when I nuzzle the crook of his neck just right. I'd only been able to show him how I felt not a month ago. Barely that. I'd been unable to speak, I'd felt so vulnerable, so frightened……… How could I not be afraid that he'd reject me? He, perfection and purity and light, and me, darkness and evil and poison. And when he didn't……… My world was suddenly so wonderfully perfect. Nothing could go wrong. Absolutely nothing. I had my little Yugi, I had all I needed. And now……… What if he hated me? I didn't think I could go on living with that knowledge.  
  
I must seem sickeningly dependant on Yugi to you, and I'll tell you the truth. I was. I am. It's almost sad. But when your very existence rides on your bedmate, you tend not to want to let him out of your sight. My sweet little Yugi……… Suddenly I wanted to be back with him so badly I could feel it in my chest, and it hurt. So I started running. The cold air whipped my face, making my eyes water with the sting, but I didn't stop. Gods, I'd run forever and a day, to hell and back again, if it would please him. My gift, my blessing, my hikari……… My Yugi.  
  
I found myself standing on the doorstep, suddenly experiencing a wave of doubt. Suppose he was still angry at me? Suppose he wouldn't even look at me? I didn't know what to do, so I just stood there. A bad habit of mine. When in doubt, I don't do anything. I just freeze up. Bakura seems to resort to violence when he's not sure, and Yami Malik seems to live by the phrase Malik's so fond of quoting; "When in doubt, run in circles, scream, and shout." I just freeze. So I stood there for the longest time, terrible scenarios in which Yugi would tell me he never wanted to see me again playing through my head as though someone left one of those damned vcr's on a loop. So you can imagine my shock when the door opened and Yugi greeted me with a sad look.  
  
" Are you going to come in, or what?" he asked softly. I looked down at him and I could see he'd been crying. It took all the self-restraint I had not to gather him into my arms right there and kiss away his tears and make love to him until he smiled again. I can't stand seeing him like that. I cannot stand it.  
  
" Yeah, I guess." I said, stepping in and following him up to our room. Our room. Our bed. I gulped. I find Yugi amazingly attractive, and sometimes it's difficult……… I couldn't imagine him being very pleased if I suddenly wanted to have sex out of the blue.  
  
" Why didn't you tell me you were going out?" he asked me suddenly. I flashed a look at the bed and tried not to think the thoughts that kept racing through my mind anyway.  
  
" It didn't exactly seem like you were listening to anything I said, so I just……… went out." I said helplessly. I was suddenly overcome with the urge to just kiss him and whisper into his hair how sorry I was. But Yugi seemed to sense that urge from me and stepped out of my reach. I scowled at him.  
  
" I'm not making this easy." Yugi told me, returning my scowl.  
  
" Well, what do you want me to say?" I asked, crossing my arms over my chest, my own anger and indignation rising again.  
  
" An apology might be a good way to start." He said matter-of-factly. Oh, so he wants an apology? Well, maybe I'd like an apology too.  
  
" It takes two to tango." I shot back. I can be every bit as sarcastic as anyone else.  
  
" I wasn't the one being a jerk." Yugi pointed out. I huffed a little, even though he was right.  
  
" I didn't see you helping the situation." I reminded him, which was as true as what he'd said.  
  
" Is it that hard just to apologize?!" Yugi asked me in exasperation.  
  
" I was just messing around! I don't see a need to apologize!" I cried back. Oh, I did see a need to apologize. Nothing was worth Yugi staying mad at me. Yugi glared at me.  
  
" Fine. Have it your way. But don't expect me to let you sleep in my bed tonight." He said, his voice soft and uncharacteristically angry. I was instantly sorry. Unfortunately, I was too stubborn to admit it.  
  
" Fine. I'll sleep on the couch." I announced, turning and tromping loudly down the stairs into the living room, where I plopped down onto the couch and glared in the direction of Yugi's bedroom. He slammed the door behind me to make his point. I stuck my tongue out like a peevish child and propped my feet up on the couch, my arms crossed over my chest again. Grandpa came into the room, saw me glaring at a wall, turned, and left me alone. I was glad. Human interaction was one thing I really could not handle at the moment. I shot a sultry look at the clock, to discover it was nearly one in the morning. What the hell was Yugi doing still awake?! I may have been mad at him, but I was still his yami. I stood up and stomped back up the stairs, determined to make my anger known by making as much noise as possible. I stopped at his door and started pounding on it.  
  
" What do you want now?!" Yugi screamed at me through the door. Yugi doesn't scream, and most certainly not at me. But despite my shock, I only got angrier.  
  
" Get in bed! It's nearly one!" I yelled back.  
  
" Make me!" Yugi shot back. Now this was getting out of hand.  
  
" I will!" I promised angrily. " You don't want me to come in there!"  
  
" I'll call Yami Bakura and claim hikari abuse!" Yugi threatened back. Then we both stopped. The idea was so preposterous……… Granted, the tomb robber would probably beat me into the ground for hurting my hikari, but the he wasn't exactly a saint. We both started laughing. I hoped that the fight was over. Unfortunately, I was wrong.  
  
" Come on, let me in, aibou." I called.  
  
" No. I'm still mad at you." Yugi told me blankly.  
  
" This is so stupid!" I cried, slamming my head into the door.  
  
" Tell that to your couch." Yugi advised. I glared at the door, imagining him sitting on the bed, those golden bangs framing that sweet childlike face……… I tried the knob again, to no avail. Then I sighed and went back down stairs.  
  
Do you have any idea how boring old sitcoms are? Very, very boring. Especially when all you can think about is a certain short little hikari whom you want more than anything you've ever wanted before in your entire five thousand year long existence. And that girl on the TV thinks she's got problems. I lay there on that cold couch for a ridiculously long time, watching that blasted box and munching on whatever I could find in the kitchen that didn't require preparation. And feeling remarkably stupid.  
  
I guess I get contemplative when I'm depressed, because I was really thinking. It was better than letting myself totally zone out into that box. I don't like the TV. I'm convinced that it hypnotizes people and influences their actions. Hey, I've got statistics to back that up! Don't look at me like that, I won't hesitate to use you as a vent for all those "pent-up emotions" Yugi's always pestering me to "let out." Anyway……… The whole thing felt so stupid. I think I might have mentioned that. It was just a girl. I could be up there right now, laying beside my precious aibou. But no, I had to make a smart-ass remark………  
  
I guess I fell asleep. Because the next thing I remember was a small hand shaking my shoulder and a gentle whisper in my ear.  
  
" Yami. Yami, wake up." Yugi's voice tickled in my ear. My eyes opened lazily and lolled over in my head to rest on that sweet face of his.  
  
" Huh?" I grunted. Usually, I wake up easily. But I figured my consumption of alcohol dulled me a little.  
  
" Are you awake?" Yugi asked me, those red-violet orbs flashing in the moonlight.  
  
" Um, yes, I am now." I muttered, rubbing my eyes. Then I caught it. The faint tickle of fear coming from him across our link. My eyes opened completely and I looked at him. " What's wrong?" I asked. Yugi fidgeted a little, a blush creeping across his pale features.  
  
" I, um, I had a nightmare." He whispered, lowering his gaze to the floor. " Could you come to bed?" he asked. I nodded, numbed by the possibility that he would want me back. I followed him up the stairs, watching him as he walked ahead of me. Everything about him so familiar……… The narrow shoulders, the short yet slim legs, the childlike figure, all wrapped up in adorable star decorated pajamas. He ran through our room and leapt into the bed, looking over his shoulder expectantly as I crossed more slowly. A light smile teased his features as I crawled under the covers next to him and pulled him against my chest. There are no words for the emotions that flowed through me. Completeness, joy, love……… They all fall short. I felt like I could explode, and I wanted to run around in circles and scream it to the world, but at the same time, I never wanted to move again. I wanted to die, and I wanted to live like I never had before. I wanted to cry, and I wanted to laugh, and I just wanted to lay still. And more than anything, I never, ever wanted to let go of my precious, angelic, hopelessly pure hikari.  
  
" I'm sorry, aibou." I whispered.  
  
" Me too." Yugi returned quickly. Then he snuggled closer. And once again, I was possessed with all the paradoxical urges I should have been used to. I felt our link suddenly flow wide open and I wanted him more than ever, if that was even possible. And he answered my questioning nudges readily. My lips found his unguided and soon I was re-exploring his mouth earnestly with my tongue. My hands drifted up his chest and worked expertly at the buttons on his pajamas. I wanted to kiss every part of him, and he was more than willing to oblige.  
  
In the night, in the darkness I know far too well, with my precious little one pressed against my bare chest, I stared at the pale moonlight, and the twisted shadows, in contemplation. I heaved a small sigh, and glanced down at Yugi, fearful I had woken him. But no. The night's activities and emotional stress had taken their toll on his slight frame. He was exhausted, and I didn't expect him awake for a long while. Fortunately, the next day was Sunday. I worried I had stained him, tainted that beautiful purity that was his alone. Tainted him with my own sinful existence. Gods, I was the very embodiment of every thing I sacrificed my life to destroy in the old times. I had become what I hated and feared most. I had become the living night, the walking shadow. My own power had seeped into my skull and corrupted my very essence, poisoning me beyond all hope. I was poisoned, and there was no cure. Even Yugi, the light to my darkness, the goodness to my evil, can't cure me of the poison. It's always there. It always will be. The madness that I know……… The madness we all know. The madness Yami Malik lives with. The madness Bakura and I fall to too often for comfort. The madness of the poison, the madness of the darkness that creeps up behind you when you least expect it, sneaks ever so softly into your brain and before you know it, it's become a part of you so deeply embedded that you know beyond all doubt that it will always be there. I wanted to weep, to scream, and to laugh like the madman I'm quite capable of becoming.  
  
Everyone has their bad days, right?  
  
When you know you shouldn't exist, when you hate yourself so fully you can taste it……… You'll know me. Maybe it's just a bad day. Maybe I'm just being stupid, and, as you can see, I'm pretty good at that. But I can't help but feel……… When the others look at me, they see a confident, slightly egotistical, former Pharaoh. Someone who's always ready for some competition. Someone perfectly confident in his abilities. Someone with utterly iron control over himself. And that's what I want them to see. I want them to see that, so they don't question me. I don't want them to see the part of me that's unsure and frightened of my own being. I don't want them to see the insecurity and self-loathing and desperation. Gods, don't take Yugi from me. I know you probably think it'd be best for him. And who knows? You might be right. But please, if there are any merciful gods left, don't let them take Yugi. He's all that's keeping me sane, all that's keeping me from surrendering completely to the night. I don't want to go back to the lonely, maddening wandering……… They say solitude can drive one to madness. If only I could give it such a paltry name. If only it was petty loneliness……… Something far more sinister lurks there, ready to steal the last precious bits of me left from time long gone. The last precious bits of someone I used to like……… of someone I once was. Maybe that's why I cling to Yugi. Maybe I see a little bit of myself, younger, more innocent, in him. I won't let you take him from me. I won't. You can try. I dare you to. I promise, you will live to regret it. Just try. 


	6. MalikxYami Malik YM's POV

Dark Addiction

By: Rogue Fox

A/N: Well, I did it. By popular request, here it is. A romantic fic in the POV of everyone's favorite lunatic, (not me!) Yami Malik. Oh my god, I seriously scared myself with this one. Yami Malik's head……… :shudder: Don't go there. It's scary. ;; Oh, by the way, I did this one like you're listening to Yami Malik's internal dialogue. Very scary.

People are the funniest damn things in the world.

Doodling in melted cheese on the countertop is fun……… Um, what was I thinking about before? Oh yeah. People are funny. Ha ha……… Just watch them sometime. They're damn hilarious. Um, I think I lost that train of thought. Oh well. Malik just came in.

" Yami! What are you doing!" he shrieks at me.

" Um, drawing?" I suggest, attempting to sound kind. That's hard, you know. Sometimes Malik can be a little slow. I mean, it was pretty obvious that I was drawing.

" I can see that!" he shrills.

" Well, why'd you ask, then?" I ask, annoyed. Malik sighs in exasperation.

" Why are drawing in melted cheese on my countertop?" he asks me. His countertop? When did it become his countertop? I thought I made it quite clear that I own everything in this house. I let an eyebrow rise questioningly.

" Cause I wanna." I tell him. Guess what? This conversation is boring. " Can I have booze?" I ask.

" No." Malik tells me. This, I am not liking. Since when do I let him tell me what to do? And then, that little voice of reason in the back of my head speaks up and reminds me that I let him tell me what to do cause I like him happy come nightfall……… That makes things so much more pleasurable. So guess what now? This conversation is boring too. Malik seems to be in a boring mood. I need to fix that.

" You're no fun. Maybe you should have booze." I suggest. I like Malik better when he's fun. He's not fun now. Now he's boring. Boring Malik. Ha ha ha……… That sounds dumb.

" No. I'm not going to get drunk so you can knock me up." He tells me harshly. Well, he saw through that easily enough. I can't seem to decide if that's a good thing or a bad thing. Oh well, why decide? Too boring. And I'm too bored as it is. I wanna have fun.

" I don't need to knock you up." I tell him. He glares at me over his shoulder while he tries to mop up my pretty picture. How sad……… Bye bye, pretty picture.

" Don't even think about it. It's the middle of the day and I promised Ryou I'd go with him to the movies today." He tells me. What! And why was I not informed of this! I bristle automatically.

" You didn't mention that to me." I growl. Malik flashes me a worried glance. Yeah, you'd better worry, little hikari.

" I just got off the phone with him. I came in here to tell you." He says. Humbug. He just killed my reason to be mad. I like being mad. Things are so much easier if you're drunk or mad. Then, if you're me, pleading insanity works wonders. " Yami Bakura wants you to come." Malik adds. Ah, I see. Wittle tomb wobber is afraid to go into da big wide worwd all awone? Ha ha ha ha……… Funny. But then again……… I don't wanna deal with all those icky people. They're all smelly and nasty and yucky and they make Malik annoyed and I don't like it when Malik gets annoyed. But……… What an opportunity! Havoc! Mayhem! Madness! Rubber Duckies! Ummm……… I'm not sure where that last one came from. Hee hee……… Rubber duckies……… What was I thinking about? Oh yeah. To go or not to go? Interesting. Not really. Simple choice, actually.

" Are you gonna come or what?" Malik asks impatiently. Ah, I'm not that stupid. Stupid's funny word. Stupid stupid stupid stupid stupid stupid………

" What are the rules?" I ask. Malik grins.

" What a good yami!" he cooes, patting my head. That's annoying. If he wasn't my favorite toy, I'd rip that arm off and shove it up his ass. " The rules are you can't cause mass hysteria and……… Just try to be normal, okay?" he asks. Normal?

" Define normal." I request.

" Act like everyone else." Malik tells me.

" That's boring!" I cry, already bored with this conversation. I walk over to the table and begin to rummage through the cereal box there. I know there's a toy in here somewhere! I don't really care that I'm spilling cereal everywhere.

" I know, but if you wanna go, you're going to have to keep it to a minimum." Malik tells me. Mi-ni-mum. That's not a funny word. Especially in this situation.

" I guess." I mutter. " Aha!" I cry triumphantly. I giggle when Malik jumps.

" What!" He asks. I grin at him and hold up a plastic figurine of some cartoon. It looks like a big pink bunny with over-large eyes.

" I found it." I inform him.

" You're going to use that as an effigy, right?" Malik asks, making a disgusted face.

" Maybe." I say, drawing the word out in a manner I know Malik finds annoying. That's fun to do.

" Because that's that stupid Funny Bunny. Burn it, I refuse to sleep in a room where that is." Malik tells me. I frown. Malik's not happy. The bunny made him sad. That officially sucks. Bad bunny! I don't like things that make Malik sad. I really don't. I smile widely as I crack the bunny's arm off. Bad bunny indeed. Bad bunny has to be punished. My grin stretches more as I snap its head off. Very bad bunny………

Malik's a neat freak. I'm not. Right now, Malik's cleaning up the cereal mess I made earlier. He knows we should be going if we're gonna meet Ryou and the tomb robber on time. I like to be on time. Call it a fettish. I don't like cleaning. And I don't like the pants Malik's wearing. If they make me want to drag him up to bed and screw him, they're going to make someone else want to screw him too. And that isn't allowed. I might have to punish that someone like I punished the bad bunny. No one makes Malik sad.

" Okay, we can go now." Malik says, walking toward the door. I note that the cereal is gone. I wonder if he threw it all away. Probably. Malik says food gets icky if you let it touch dirty things. I don't know about that, but I am sad that all the yummy cereal is gone. It was my favorite, too. But I don't like icky things, because Malik doesn't like them.

Malik's happy now. I like it when Malik's happy. It makes me happy. It makes me want to run in circles and scream. I don't see a problem with this, but for some reason, Malik seems to think screaming that I think he's a sexy god is a bad thing. He says I can run in circles if I want, though, so I do. I can't help it if my hikari's sexy. Why shouldn't I tell the world that my hikari's sexy? Happy Malik……… He's smiling now. I like it when he smiles. It's like the sun is burning at its brightest, and all the mountains look smaller and all the oceans less deep and all the colors less bright in comparison. Nothing can compare. I wonder if I only think this because I don't think like everyone else. I know I don't. That's kind of obvious. I don't know if I'm crazy, like Isis always says, because I'm not sure what crazy is. I know it means someone who can't really see reality the right way, but how do you know what way is the right way? How can you know, if everyone see everything differently? I know what I see, even if it is different or even not right. And I see Malik smile. I hear Malik laugh. That's good. I like that. He sounds happy. I wonder if the Pharaoh and the tomb robber feel like this when their hikari's laugh? Like everything is so very right……… There is no bad when Malik laughs. That makes me feel a little lost, because I don't know what to do when there's no bad.

" What's the matter with you?" Malik asks me. The matter? Oh, he wants to know what's wrong with me. Well, aside from the obvious………

" Nothing." I say. I'm not lying. I have to lie to Malik a lot, and I know it makes him sad when he finds out. Actually, he starts yelling at me. I don't like that, because he always gets sad afterward. But I have to lie to him sometimes, because I know the truth would make him sad and it's worth risking getting yelled at to prevent that.

" You've been awfully quiet." Malik notes. Then he gives me a suspicious glare. " What are you planning?" he asks. Well, I know I'm trusted.

" Nothing." I repeat defensively, which is true. I'm not planning anything. Yet. Insert maniacal evil grin here.

" Just promise not to do anything too drastic." Malik requests. I frown thoughtfully, wondering exactly when things get "too drastic."

We do manage to get to the appointed meeting spot, both on time- yay!- and without causing any major disasters. The thing with the truck doesn't count. He was being a jackass, and he deserved what he got. I hope he's having a good time in the Shadow Realm. Heh-heh……… Oops. The tomb robber was asking me something and I wasn't paying attention. Umm………

" Yes." I say automatically. Maybe that will appease him. Or not, judging by the expression on his face. " No?" I suggest sheepishly. Nope. That didn't work either. " Maybe." I say. Now he's giving me a weird look.

" Where you even listening?" he asks. Busted.

" No." I answer. He rolls his eyes.

" I don't even want to know what's going on in your head." He declares. I decide not to tell him. " I wanted to know if you want to come with me while those two watch their movie." Bakura asks, motioning to our hikaris, who were discussing what movie to watch. I sure as hell didn't want to go with them. Movie theaters are amazingly boring. However, if I went with the tomb robber, I was bound to have some less than moral fun. But I'd also be leaving Malik behind unprotected. Big no-no. The tomb robber seems to read my mind. " We won't go far." He promises. Now he has my attention.

" Whee! Fun!" I exclaim, jumping up and down. Malik casts me a look I can't read and turns back to Ryou. What's going on in that pretty little head of his? I bristle a little when I realize that he's blocked me out of his head. Naughty Malik. I'm the yami here, and I own you.

I've suspected for a long time that Malik loves someone. I don't know who. He blocks his mind off, even in his sleep. He's a clever one, my hikari. I know it's not me that he loves. He hates me. But I'm not sure who he does love. Isis, obviously, but she's his sister. He's got more sense than to fall for that Anzu girl that's always hanging off Yugi and the Pharaoh. And Mai isn't his type. Shizuka, that blonde doof's sister, is too young, and I really can't think of anyone else. Any other girls, that is. Which makes perfect sense. My little aibou is sleeping with me.

You're probably wondering how I can be so at peace with the fact that the object of my adoration hates me. That's fine. I don't think I could handle it if he loved me the way Ryou and Yugi love their yamis. I'm not the kind of guy who accepts love, whatever the hell that is. Just so long as Malik understands that he belongs to me and me alone, that his soul was made for mine and vice versa, I'm happy. Well, content. Not even that, really. There's a lot of shit about being a yami that kind of makes it hard to be happy.

Anyway, guess what? No, nothing's boring yet. There's a mall right next to the movie theater! A mall! Yay! The absolute perfect place to cause utter chaos and hysteria and then slip into the crowd and not get blamed! For the tomb robber and I, fun consists of figuring out how to cause all sorts of chaos and avoid getting blamed for it. Of course, when we're in more mellow moods, we've been known to just play practical jokes on each other and the Pharaoh, who is nowhere near above dealing out his own pranks in retribution. Anyway………

Hey, I remembered that train of thought I lost earlier! The one about people being funny! Heh-heh……… People are funny, from a distance. I like to avoid icky, stinky mortals when I can. They're so wrapped up in their own little dramas that they can't even see some pretty obvious shit around them. For example; hello, geniuses, your planet is dying under your feet! There are little kids who have to drink water cows pissed in and starving to death because no one has a few measly cents to buy them a piece of fruit! But hey, you don't care. As long as you and yours are okay, the rest of the world can fuck off, right? Pretty funny. One of these days, all your mistakes are going to rear their ugly heads and bite you in the ass like a venomous snake. Trust me about this, I know. I know all about past mistakes suddenly slapping you in the face, poisoning you……… Making you suffer until you've paid your dues. Yeah, I know all about that. And trust me, just because I know about it doesn't mean I'm not going to laugh my ass off when it happens to you. Cause I will. Actually, I'm already laughing.

" Whee!" I cry joyously. The tomb robber rolls his eyes. Aw, up yours, you stiff.

" Keep it down. The idea is not to draw attention to ourselves." He tells me. I stick my tongue out.

" Where's the fun in that?" I ask. The tomb robber chuckles and nods to our left. I follow his gaze. There's a group of girls standing there, goggling at us and giggling like the set of idiots they are. Oh, this has such wonderful possibilities.

" They've been following us around since we came in." Bakura informs me. Oh, really?

" Huh. Wanna have some fun?" I ask.

" Hell yeah." He automatically responds. Whee! Fun! I turn and follow the tomb robber into a store and behind a rack of books where they can't see us. " Flip a coin over who has to talk to them. Loser goes." He tells me, fishing a coin out of his pocket. Damn it, Malik has the Rod. I can't use it to make him believe he lost. Which means, I have to do this the old fashioned way.

" Heads." I say as he flips it. We both step back and let it fall to the floor, then bend down to inspect it.

" It's tails." Bakura announces, flashing me a gloating grin. I wince.

" I don't wanna talk to them!" I whine.

" You lost, fair and square! Now go get 'em!" he tells me, shoving me out of the store. Ick. They're staring at me. I know I'm good looking, I just have to look at Malik to figure that out. But really, do they have to stare at me like that? I feel like I'm on display or something. Which pisses me off.

About fifteen minutes later, the group of idiots are all blubbering in the girls' bathroom. The tomb robber and I effectively scared the shit out of them. I won't go into detail how. But I will tell you that it was extremely fun. A few people stare at us as we walked into the main part of the mall, which was probably on the account of the fact that I was grinning widely, which always tends to make people nervous. I pretend to lunge at an elderly lady, which makes her squeal like a pig. I laugh. Mortals are so funny. And then I see him. The Pharaoh. Woohoo, this is gonna be fun……… Unfortunately, he seems to get into a fight with his precious hikari……… Funny as hell. He goes into his soul room in a shimmer of light, and I wonder what that was about. I decide I don't wanna know.

The Pharaoh's hikari is pretty, in his own little way. All childlike and cutesy, bright sun rays peeping shyly over the horizon just as dawn breaks. Like ginger, sweet and yet slightly spicy and tangy. Not yummy, though. Oh no. The thief's hikari is silvery and pretty, like dainty beams of pale moonlight shining brightly from the moon's lonely perch, all pale and pretty and frail. Like vanilla, cool and subtle and yet strangely distinguishable all the same. Not like mine. My own pretty one, mine. All mine, just for me. Mine, with sun-kissed skin that tastes of salt and cinnamon, hair soft and fragrant like flower petals. Mine, all pretty-lovely and yummy, tasty and just for me. Mine, burning like the sun over the desert I miss deep down inside, shining bright for all to see. Yes, let them all see. Let them all see my pretty, lovely, tasty, yummy hikari. Mine. No one else's. Mine. Let them all see, and be jealous. Mine. All mine. The soft hair, the tanned skin, the lithe form, the big round eyes, the slender hands……… All mine. I know every inch of him better than I know anything else. Sometimes I know nothing else.

I can't think about him any more, or I'll be reduced to a babbling idiot, and I haven't sunk that low yet. But I spend the next hour and a half in simmering agony. The tomb robber doesn't speak, and I know he feels it too. We're waiting outside the theater when they come out. Pretty, nummy-yummy. Mmm……… Moon and sun. The thief can have his precious moonlight, moonlight that he lives by. He can have his moon-hikari. The Pharaoh can have his cutesy sunrise-hikari, and keep walking his fine line between night and day. I'll have my sun, thank you. I'll walk the dark alleys of murder and pain and darkness that I know so well, and I'll have my sun, my precious sunlight, sun-hikari. I'll wrap him up in the warm, familiar, hellish darkness that is a part of me. I'll smear the blood of those that make him sad across that sweet body of his. I'll watch those lovely-soft eyes of his dance in his own personal light. I'll let him go on hating me.

Sweet-soft Malik, smile, laughter, sugary sweet to see and touch and taste……… No idea in that yummy-yummy head of his how much I adore him. My lovely-pretty hikari. Mine to love, mine to hate, mine to paint with blood.

We're free now. Night has come, with it a chill that bites……… Bites. Hee-hee. Sweet-soft hikari, lovely little one next to me, pulsating with warmth and comfort. My little lovely. Kill for him, yes. Make the icky streets bright, pretty red. Show him that I can, will give him everything. I'll paint the world bloody red, so those pretty, wide eyes will shine and he'll laugh at the silly mortals. Silly, icky yami. Silly, pretty hikari. Hate me, adore him. Icky yami. Pretty hikari. Paint the streets. Paint him. Malik looks lovely-wonderful in red. He likes it when I think like this.

Blood tastes metallic. Blood tastes like darkness. Kill for the pretty hikari. Paint it all red. I see, I hear, I think, I feel differently than the others. Paint it all red so all I can see is pretty Malik and red. That's all I ever want to see.

" You'd like him, wouldn't you?" I ask the stupid mortal woman who looked at my pretty-soft Malik too long. Stupid woman. As though she would ever be good enough for him. No one is. A god is below him. Why he takes me, I'll never know. " He's soft and tasty, you know. Pretty, pretty, pretty. You see the gold? Gold all over. I put that there. I paint him in blood, in gold, in jewels. All mine, not yours. Never yours. Mine. Yummy, and all mine. You don't touch what's mine." I tell that stupid mortal woman. She screams and cries. Stupid woman, shut up. Malik thinks your voice is terrible. Itchy-scratchy and nasty. You made him sad.

" Yami, she sounds like nails on a chalk board." He tells me. I can hear the wince in his voice. I can see in my mind exactly how that perfect little nose will crinkle up and that round mouth will pucker and those dainty eyebrows will raise in disgust. That's not nice. That's mean. Malik's sad. Pretty-soft so sweet, she made him sad. I don't like that. I wanna see the red.

I force her head around so she has to look at him. I grip her by her hair and slide the golden blade of the Rod over her throat, making her weep in fear. Ha ha ha………

" Shut up, stupid. He doesn't like you nasty voice." I snarl. She complies very quickly. Malik's lips part in a small snicker. " Do you ever wonder about death?" I ask her. " Do you believe in a god?" The icky mortal woman doesn't respond. I think she's too scared. " You don't touch what belongs to me. Don't mess with things you don't understand." I advised her. " Oh, and by the way……… Are you scared of the dark?" With that final question, I yank on her hair and she starts screaming again. Malik, sweet aibou, winces again as she does. Then I press the blade against her throat and make a slow, deliberate slice, watching Malik's eyes gleam as the slippery redness of blood spills over my hands. But she's not dead yet. Oh no, I didn't cut too deeply. I cut a little deeper. And a little deeper………

Malik giggles as the screaming stops. Pretty little soft perfection, have I spoiled you? Have I ruined your sweet with my bad? Giggle giggle, pretty Malik, I like it when you giggle. You think sad thoughts. You feel sad things. Soft-sweet of mine, why do you giggle when the red paints the ground? I giggle, I laugh, I shriek, but I'm different. Bad me. Gorgeous-sweet, you're right. So so so right. So sad, my pretty-pretty, so sad. Why? You love another, I know, warmy-sweet, but I want you. Pretty Malik, all mine, let me paint you in blood. I know you hear me think, I know you see my thoughts splash across the walls of our shared consciousness like pretty, violent colors. Sad-sweet, why? You don't answer. I know. Prettypretty sweet-love, I know you. I know you inside and out. I know the way your eyes flash in fear, in hate, in lust. Sweet-soft, I didn't know I could adore anyone like this.

I paint him red, red on the cheeks where I grabbed his face and kissed him. Red smeared across his chest, down his back. Red from the hands that the blood spilled over, warm and slippery and soft, my hands. Sweet little one, who would make those lovely rose-petal lips turn to a frown? Tell me, so I can rip their heart out. Pretty sweet, don't love me.

/ You're difficult to understand, Yami./ my sweet whispers in my mind. I have him pressed to a wall, kissing him hungrily.

/ Sweet, you're so sweet./ I murmur. I know he loves it when I do that. / Don't try. Don't fret your pretty head, sweetness./ I tell him. He moans a little under my touch.

/ I want to understand you./ he protests.

/ That'll take the fun out of it./ I mutter in response. He doesn't consciously pursue the topic after that. I catch snatches of thought floating through his soft little mind as we make love in that back alley, walls, street, sweet hikari, and icky yami all splattered in red blood. Things like, "I hate you," "Don't leave me," "Understand," and once, "I can't, even if I want………". He's very good at blocking me out at just the right moment.

Pretty Malik, soft and sleeping in my arms. Carry him home to nice Isis. Can't take care of him. Just can't. I killed his father. Nearly killed him. He hates me. He always will. Oh, my sweet-soft hikari, hate me. Hate me. Keep hating me. Don't ever stop. I adore you. I worship you. I think I love you. But I need you to hate me. Ha-ha, silly yami. Silly silly yami. Bad yami. So bad. Never, ever, ever have the pretty hikari completely. He loves another. I let him, he's happy. I like Malik happy. There's no bad when Malik smiles. Bad yami made him sad. Bad yami must be punished. But how? Make me go away from Malik would be good punishment, but Malik would be sad. Hikari needs yami, yami needs hikari. Malik would hurt. How do I punish me? Silly, silly yami.

People are the funniest damn things in the world.

I laugh, a sad, funny, strange laugh. Stranger here, not right, don't belong. Pretty Malik, sweet Malik, my only. Mine. Bad, silly, awful yami. Bad me. Silly me. Gods, give me back a little of what I had. I don't remember……… Before the dark, when pretty-soft Malik was a dream. Shadows in night, when no moon gleams. No hikaris. Bad coming……… Different. Hate. Oh gods……… I am insane. There is no bad. Pretty Malik, sleeping in the bed while I watch him. Watch his chest rise and fall in rhythmic breathing. He's smiling. No bad when Malik smiles. Just lost. Lost, silly yami, all alone in the night. Little hikari hates him. The world hates him. Supposed to be dead, gone, bye-bye. Gods forsake him, no one will have him. Pretty hikari is all he has. Pretty hikari hates him. No bad when Malik smiles. All I have. My all. Mine. And yet, not mine. Never mine. Bad yami. Bad, bad, bad yami. All alone in the night. The red on his cheeks that didn't quite come off. My sweet, broken, blood-painted, stained, wonderful, sad, soft hikari. I broke you. I still break you. You hate me. I love you. Bad yami. No more now. Time for sleep. My head hurts. I think I thought too much. Pretty hikari all painted in red. Never leave me, my lovely-soft. Sweet-soft, goodnight. Goodnight, love. Hate me always, love me never. Goodnight.

A/N: Well, that was just weird. If you got any of that, you're very special. My head really does hurt, so excuse me while I eat my ever-faithful Advil. Don't forget to review, folks!


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